The New Triquetra
by TheNarator
Summary: The children of the Charmed Ones are coming into their powers, but if all the demons have been vanquished, then why? Rated K plus for adult language. On hiatus until I find my inspiration again.
1. Chapter 1

_**The New Triquetra**_

Summary : The year is 2029. Phoebe and Cole never broke up after the whole Source of all evil thing, but they did have a child, almost the same age as Wyatt, a little younger, named Julia. Paige also had a child with Richard, a little girl named Desiree. Chris was never born as far as we know. Shortly after Desiree's birth, when Wyatt was two and Julia was one, The Charmed ones and their husbands were killed vanquishing what they believed to be the last demon in the underworld . Grams was resurrected to look after the three children, and bound their powers just like she did with the charmed ones. They never knew about their powers, but when Wyatt was 24 Grams died again, the same way she did the last time. Shortly afterwards Julia left (like mother like daughter) but now two years later she's back . Wyatt is none too happy, but there may be another reason for Julia's return. A magic reason.

Author's Note: I based this off of the first episodes of Charmed, please review, I must know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own charmed!

26 year old Wyatt Halliwell glared daggers at is 24 year old cousin and room mate, Desiree. She had her back to him, and was brushing out her long, wavy auburn hair in front of a mirror in the next room, while he sat at the kitchen table, pretending to be reading but really pondering how he had allowed himself to be drawn into this mess. How had his cousin managed to rope him into letting their other cousin, Julia, stay with them? True, the house was partly her's, but his relationship with his cousin was in pretty bad shape. He and Julia had always squabbled. He was the good boy and she was the rebel. While he'd been studying, she'd been sneaking out to parties. While he'd been on a sports team, she was out hanging with the popular in-crowd .He'd never even had a girlfriend in high school, but she made out with any guy she wanted, and any nerd who would cough up five buck. He was always the logical one, but she never took her head out of the clouds. They were total opposites, and had never agreed on anything. An now just when he thought the childhood nightmare was over, she was headed back into town, back into his house, back into his life.

Desiree let out a deep sigh. "You can't stay mad at her forever you know. She's part of your family, and sooner or later you will have to interact with her. Better the two of you get over your issues here and now rather than later in front of the whole family."

Wyatt again glared at her,"first of all, there is no rule saying that I have to like Julia. Second of all, will you quit acting like you know what I'm thinking. Its disturbing. Third of all, what family? Grams was pretty much all we had left. There's our grandfather, but he's halfway around the globe in some retirement home. You're pretty much the only family member left to watch."

Desiree sighed again in exasperation, and went back to brushing her hair. Suddenly the lights flickered. "What was that?" Desiree asked, coming into te kitchen to join her cousin.

Wyatt, who had stood up, marched over to the light switch. He flicked it off, then on again. The kitchen light stayed on, winking out every few seconds, then at last it went out completely. "I'll go look for the circuit box," Wyatt sighed, grabbing a flashlight from a drawer and heading down into the basement.

_Ding Dong_, the doorbell rang and Desiree hooked onto Wyatt's arm. "Not so fast," she instructed as he tried to pull away, "you are going to go let Julia in."

Wyatt whirled around to face her. "No," he said firmly, as though that settled the matter.

Desiree however, had never lost an argument. "Yes," she pulled on his arm, dragging him towards the door, "you are going to let her in, you are going to be nice and the two of you are going to get over your issues with each other."

Wyatt jerked his arm free of her, "you invited her here, you go let her in!"

Desiree once again grabbed him by he upper arm, "I invited her here so the two of you could work things out, you go!"

"Guys, guys," came a silvery voice from the front hall, "I'm already in!"

Julia stepped from the dinning room into the kitchen"Hi!" she grinned, opening her willowy arms for a hug . Desiree came dashing across the kitchen and threw herself into Julia's embrace. "You're here!" she gushed, hugging her cousin close.

"Yeah, and its all thanks to you!" Julia broke apart and held Desiree at arm's length, "I never would have thought to come back home if you hadn't offered."

Julia turned to Wyatt, still smiling. Wyatt looked her up and down, not really trying to hide his obvious contempt . Her long black hair was up in a pony tail, her dark eyes sparkling. She slim and beautiful like Desiree, but taller than her, much taller, in fact, then even Wyatt himself. "How'd you get in?" he said at last, "lock picking classes paying off, or just long practice?'

Julia switched instantly to defense mode. The grin vanished, and she held up a small brass key. "Hide-a-key." she sated simply.

"Good at fining those?" Wyatt obviously wasn't giving up.

Julia smirked slightly, then shrugged, " its just easy when the person hiding them is so... pre-dic-ta-ble." she drew the word out, making Wyatt glare.

"Okay," Desiree interjected at last, "Wyatt was just about to go downstairs and check out the circuit box, Julia why don't you go with him, hold the flashlight or something?"

"Sure, whatever," Julia grabbed the flashlight from Wyatt's hand and stomped down the basement stairs.

Wyatt whirled on Desiree, "offered!" he whispered furiously, "you told me _she _wanted to come back!"

"Well, I might have brought up the suggestion on the phone, but I didn't really..." she trailed off, as Wyatt continued to glare at her.

"You coming or what?" Julia yelled up the stairs.

"We'll talk about this later," Wyatt whispered savagely, and tromped down the stairs to find Julia.

She was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, holding the flashlight and looking annoyed. "Finally," she muttered as he stepped off the staircase and onto the hard concrete floor, "you always were slow."

He glared at her, "at least I always got there the right way, not the..."

"The easy way," Julia finished for him, "yeah, yeah, yeah, lets just look for the damn thing already."

They waded through the boxes mostly in silence, she swept the flashlight over everything, he scanned the walls for the circuit box. It was several minutes before Julia spoke. "You know, you didn't have to be such a asshole to me in there."

Wyatt didn't respond, turn to face her or even show any sign that he had heard, he just kept going, acting as though she hadn't spoken. Julia pressed on, "I was just trying to be nice, you know, family love and all that jazz."

Again Wyatt ignored her. "Okay what is your problem with me," Julia cried, clearly irritated, " 'cause whatever it is its not worth..."

"Everything!" Wyatt yelled, "Everything, alright! Everything about you drives me insane! The way you dress, the way you act, the way you talk, its just infuriating!"

Julia recoiled, then glared at him, incredulous. "I've never done anything to you!" she screamed, "just because you were a little goody-two-shoes that didn't know how to have fun, that doesn't mean everyone around you has to live up to your perfect standards!"

"Perfect standards!" Wyatt shouted, "you didn't even meet decent standards! You were a little trouble maker and you know it, you always drove me and Grams up the wall!"

Julia opened her mouth to respond but Wyatt wheeled around and started to storm off. However, the story high stack of boxes he walked into had other plans.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Six heavy boxes came tumbling down on Wyatt .He crouched down and covered his head with his hands, but Julia leapt forward .Quick as a flash she stretched one leg out over Wyatt and braced it against the stack of boxes. This stopped a few but the rest toppled down on Julia. She bent her head and covered it as two fell onto her back and rolled off. Then something else fell on her, then to the floor with a clatter. Julia pulled her foot back peered down at the floor. "Is that...?" she murmured.

Wyatt reached out and picked up the spirit board. He rose, then blew on so a cloud of dust disbursed into the still, musty air. A faint memory bubbled to the surface of Julia's mind, her sitting on Grams' lap in the conservatory, both their fingers touching the pointer as it slid around the board, spelling out secret messages. She grinned slightly at the thought. "I thought we sold this at a yard sale," Wyatt said absently.

Julia stared at him, appalled. "You tried to sell Grams' old spirit board?!"

Wyatt looked at her quizzically, "yeah we don't really have any need for voodoo in this house."

Again Julia glared, "its not voodoo Wyatt, its magic. And besides that's not the point . That things has memories! It belonged to our parents, and we played with it when we were kids!"

Wyatt stilled looked at her as though she were insane, "but no one's playing with it now are they. Besides why do we need to keep all this old junk around? Its no real use, and anyway it just takes up space."

Julia opened her mouth to argue again, then closed it. It was pointless to argue with him and she knew it. She seized the board and pointer, threw him the flashlight and stomped up the stairs. Wyatt didn't stop her or follow her. It was useless to try to talk any kind of sense into Julia, she was just too mule headed. Wyatt re-stacked the boxes and went again to look for the circuit box.

-Later-

Julia and Desiree sat at the table in the conservatory, the spirit board in front of them, several candles lit on the table around them. They both laughed as Julia recounted a time when Wyatt had been sure the pointer had moved on its own and spelled out the word_ demon_. In reality it had just been his imagination, but it took him a few weeks to realize that. Desiree took her fingers off the pointer and grabbed the bowl of popcorn, stuffed a handful into her moth, then passed it to Julia . Julia took it, but just as she removed her fingers from the pointer, Desiree replaced her's. "Whoa!" Desiree nearly jumped out of her seat, making Julia choke on a piece of popcorn.

Julia coughed into her fist, then looked quizzically at Desiree. "What was that about Des?"

Desiree was looking with almost equal puzzlement at the pointer. "I...I... she stammered, "I could have sworn it..._moved!_"Julia laughed softly, "don't go all Wyatt on me Des!" she joked, "the last thing we need around this house is another crazy!"

"I heard that!" came an angry voice from the kitchen. Julia winced, then put her fingers back on the pointer, but almost immediately removed them, sat back and stared off into space. Desiree looked at her, a question in her eyes. Julia was fiddling with her locket. It was gold in the shape of a heart. The front depicted a symbol called, what was it, Desiree thought, the triquetra? Yes, that was it . It meant three working as one. On the back was the inscription _the power of three will set you free_. Inside was a picture of Julia's family, the mother and father she had never known. Desiree leaned back against the chair and toyed absently with her own locket . The design and inscription were the same, but the picture inside was of Desiree's parents. Paige and Richard, she thought. Those were wonderful names. Wyatt, of course, had no locket, but a picture frame that sat on his bedside table. The picture in it showed his parents at their wedding. At the top of the frame was a small extension on which the triquetra was carved, and the words were carved along the bottom . She turned her attention back to the spirit board and . . . Desiree sat bolt upright. "What?" asked Julia, staring at Desiree, "what is it?"

Desiree pointed wordlessly at the spirit board. Julia's mouth dropped open. The pointer was sliding slowly and silently across the spirit board towards the letter _a_! As Julia watched, unable to make a sound, it reached the _a_, then started across the board again. "Wyatt," Julia croaked at last, "Wyatt get in here!"

"What have you done n..." he trailed of, eyes glued to the board.

"You guys see that, right?" Julia said uncertainly.

Wyatt gulped, "I wish I could say no." By now the pointer had spelled out _att_ and was headed again for another letter. Julia, hardly knowing what sh was doing, reached for the pad and paper she had placed beside the board . With shaking fingers she wrote, in barely legible script, att...i, the next letter the pointer spelled out . Wyatt's mouth had gone dry. Had he torn his eyes away from the possessed pointer he would have seen that both his cousins were paper white. The pointer slid over the letter _c,_ and stopped. Desiree let out a shuddering breath, "What was _that?!_" she asked breathlessly.

Julia held up the paper. "Attic," she said aloud, "I think it wants us to go to the attic."

Suddenly, Wyatt did something totally unexpected and, in Julia's opinion, insane. He laughed. She and Desiree both stared .Wyatt grinned at Desiree, "don't you get?" he asked, "it's a joke! Julia's playing a joke on us!" he turned to Julia, "good one Jules, you really had us going!"

Desiree swallowed, then looked at Wyatt, "Wy," she whispered softly, "I don't think this is a joke."

But Wyatt, having found a comfortable and easy solution, wasn't willing to let go. The only reason he was being so nice was that he was relieved there was a simply solution . "Don't you get it? Its all a big joke, an I'm-happy-to-be-home practical joke!"

Julia looked at Wyatt pityingly, "Wyatt, I just got here, and I found the spirit board the same time you did. How would I have had time for this kind of trick?"

Wyatt shrugged, "I don't know Jules, you always were pulling this kind of thing on short notice. I never could figure out how you did it." Both girls just stared at him. Finally, Julia rose. "I'm going to the attic," she stated simply.

Desiree jumped up, "No!" she cried, "you have no idea what could be up there! We never could get that door open, not since . . ." she trailed off. They all new the last time the attic had been open.

Julia shrugged, "I don't care. I want to know what all this," she gestured at the spirit board, "means."

"Okay Julia," Wyatt spoke up at last, still grinning, "we'll play along." Desiree and Wyatt followed Julia as she carefully climbed the main stairs, then the stairway to the attic.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"Its hopeless, you're never gonna get it open," Desiree told Julia for the tenth time, trying to sound braver and more sure of herself than she felt. Julia was twisting and turning the door handle, but the attic door wouldn't budge. Wyatt was directly behind her holding the flashlight and Desiree was standing several steps down, a safe distance from whatever might come through the door, if Julia ever opened it.

Wyatt leaned easily against the door and grinned smugly at Julia. "See Desiree," he called down without looking at her, "its just some dumb joke, there's nothing to worry about!"

But Desiree wasn't convinced, she stayed hovering halfway up the steps. "Come on Des," Wyatt called, now looking at her, "there's nothing to be afraid of!" Then Wyatt, knowing Desiree, began to bait her. He flapped his arms like wings and made clucking noises. "Stop!" she screamed, "I am not afraid!" Wyatt grinned impishly, high on the rush of being the first to figure out Julia's plot.

Desiree sighed, then marched up the stairs. "See," she said, "not afraid. Now lets go back downstairs," she turned to leave.

"No," came a firm voice behind her, "we are not leaving until I get this door open! Now will the two of you come and help me!"

"No way!" said Desiree, "I'm going back downstairs!"

Wyatt grinned evilly again, "you're afraid!" he teased.

Desiree scowled at him, furious, "am not!" she screamed.

"Rrrrrrrr!" Julia yelled, "you're acting like a bunch of five year olds! Now get over here and help me get this door open!"

"What's the matter Jules?" he asked in mock concern, "are we ruining your prank?"

Julia took a deep slow breath, obviously enraged beyond comprehension. "For the last time you idiotic whitelighter, _I am not playing a joke_!"

Wyatt and Desiree both stared at her. "What did you call me?" Wyatt said at last.

Julia looked at him, then at the floor. She ran her fingers through her hair, then looked up again. She seemed just as confused as they were. "I don't know..." she whispered slowly, "the word just seemed so...familiar. Like from a dream," she looked at him questioningly, "have you ever heard it?"

Wyatt looked at her, then bit his lip, "I don't know," he said softly, unsure. Julia was right, it did sound familiar, he just couldn't remember when he'd heard it.

"This is getting way too weird," Desiree's voice sounded shaky and scared. Julia reached out a hand to grasp her shoulder. As they connected both girls felt a tingle, like static electricity, but stronger. Desiree gasped...and the door swung open. Julia' heart began to pound. She suddenly wished it were all her joke, that this was just a trick. She glanced back at her cousin. Desiree had gone milk white, her bottom lip trembling. Julia knew that if she was scared, Desiree had to be on the brink of a heart attack. She glanced at Wyatt. The grin had vanished from his face, leaving a look of mild terror. So, she thought viciously, you finally get that I'm not just kidding around! They stood there for several moments, none of them moving, speaking or even daring to breath, just staring silently into the dimly lit attic.

It was Julia who moved first. Slowly, cautiously, she slid her feet across the wood floor. Wyatt went next, his eyes darting this way and that, looking to see who. . .or what, might come out of the shadows. Desiree brought up the rear, following Wyatt tentatively, whimpering softly. Julia walked across the dusty floor, taking in the musty smell of ancient things, long forgotten, yearning to be found. The room was dark and bleak, most of the light coming from the large window, and they could hardly see. In the dim light was visible scattered broken furniture, boxes of assorted junk, and tables and shelves of jars full of liquids, powders and other odd looking things. But by the window, silhouetted against the full, silver moon, was a pedestal similar to a music stand, but steadier and made of wood .It was facing them, and on it lay an ancient, leather bound book .On the cover, Julia's heart skipped a beat, was the triquetra! Both girls grasped instantly for their lockets, running their fingers over the familiar symbol. Julia now stood directly in front of the pedestal. She reached out a had to open the book, but at that moment Desiree cried out breathlessly, "no, don't touch it!"

Julia jerked her fingers back in surprise, then whirled to glare at Desiree. "Jesus Christ Des!" she whispered furiously, "are you trying to give me a heart attack!"

Desiree looked at the floor. She knew Julia was just nervous, they all were, but her tone still stung. Julia sighed, "sorry, it just..." she trailed off, unable to find the words.

Next to them Wyatt was having nothing short of a nervous breakdown. "See," he said in quavering voice, failing miserably to sound calmer than he felt, "its nothing. Its just an old book. Go ahead Julia pick it up, you'll see." Julia placed a shaky hand on the cover. Nothing happened. She flipped the book open to the first yellowed page. "The Book of Shadows," she read aloud.

"See," said Wyatt again, louder but no less frightened, "its just a silly old book. The door just happened to pop open . The board was just Julia's joke." He seemed more to be talking to himself then either of them.

Julia turned to another page in the book. This one was covered in writing. It seemed to be some kind of poem or, upon further inspection, Julia thought it sounded more like an oath or chant to some kind of ritual. She noticed that one of the word had been scratched out and replaced .Instead of saying 'sisters', it said 'witches'. Without meaning to or even having to think about it, she began to read aloud. "Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of gods are invoked here, the great work of magic is sought. In this night and in this hour, I call upon the ancient power. Bring your powers to we witches three. Give us the power. We want the power."

Instantly Julia felt her stomach lurch. Fire raced through her veins sending violent shivers up and down her spine. Her heart pounded, her head ached, her legs turned to water and she collapsed on the floor, weak with shock and unable to move. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, and the last thing she saw before she passed out was Desiree and Wyatt, both falling to the floor beside her, faces contorted with pain. She closed her eyes and fainted.

Author's Note: I am a young and insecure writer, please review, it realy helps me self confidence. Thank you Phantasie and Erica for your reviews. I will be sending thank you's to anyone who reviews. Also, you may have recognized the spell from the first episode of charmed, 'something wicca this way comes.' A special thanks to the talented writers who contributed to the pilot episode of charmed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Author's Note: thank you ericafine101 and Phantasie for your reviews! Its nice to have a steady audience and it really does help my self confidence! Thanx!

Desiree slowly opened her eyes, then shut them again against the harsh light of the sun streaming through the attic window. She moaned, every inch of her body ached as though she had spent the night inside a punching bag. It took a moment for her to realize where she was, and then the panic hit. What had happened last night? Had someone ambushed them? Or had it really been the spell Julia read? Not spell, she reminded herself, _poem_. She sat up slowly and gingerly, trying to ignore the searing pain in her arm where she'd fallen. The first thing she noticed was Julia and Wyatt, both lying on the floor beside her, curled up in dreamless sleep. Wyatt was breathing slowly, his limbs curled in odd angular positions. Nothing looked broken however, and he was sleeping peacefully. Julia also seemed quite content to lay there all day, but there was something different about her. She didn't look hurt, nothing beyond the mild aches and pains of her fall, but she seemed...strange. Her positioning seemed to have something odd about it. Desiree scooted closer to her, then tilted her head to look from the side.

Desiree had to clap a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. Julia was floating, no, _levitating_, almost an inch off the floor! She scrambled back, knocking over the pedestal on which the book had lay the night before. It was now open on the floor, Julia having dropped it. The wooden stand hit the floor with a bang, waking both sleeping figures. "What?" Wyatt muttered, sitting up groggily and rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Julia too pushed herself into a sitting position. The moment she had woken, she had gently resettled onto the floor. It was hard for Desiree to be sure she had even seen Julia hovering like that in her sleep, and that it hadn't just been a trick of the light. Desiree pushed it to the back of her mind, as she searched for a way to explain the previous night. Julia stretched, reaching her willowy arms out and grasping at the heavens. "What time is it?" she yawned.

Wyatt looked at his watch. Immediately all thought of the strange occurrences of the previous night were driven clean from his mind. "Damn it!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet, "its 9:30!"

Desiree shot off the floor, through the attic doorway and down the unfamiliar steps, Wyatt right behind her. It took the two of them maybe ten minutes to get ready. Julia just sat there, sprawled across the attic floor, breathing in the smell of dust and old memories, and listening to the frantic sounds of her two cousins leaving for work .She then slowly pulled herself from the floor, savoring the thought of the time she had on her hands. She bent down and picked up the mysterious, age old, 'book of shadows,' set to rights the pedestal and replaced the book upon its stand. Again she ran her hands over the hardened leather. She could just _feel_ the age, the knowledge, almost radiating from it. She felt something more under her hand, something she couldn't quite place. The feel of the leather cover, the yellowed pages, the cover design, it was so familiar, so. . .welcoming. This was something she was meant to have, that much was clear to her. Carefully she picked up the book again and carried it over to a dusty couch. Settling herself in a patch of sunlight, she opened the book and began to read.

Desiree gingerly opened the door of the social services office, praying no one could hear or see her. She quietly made her way to her desk, trying to keep as low as possible, but . . ."Halliwell!"

Desiree winced slightly as her boss's harsh voice rang out across the office. Damn! She thought, almost! She walked, smiling and bright eyed, across the room. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

Desiree wasn't quite sure how to respond, "uh...my cousin just came home last night and, uh, I stayed up late getting her. . .settled?" she answered hopefully, praying he would buy it. Mr. McDermen looked her up and down and she shivered. Whenever he looked at her that way she had the uncomfortable sensation that her was looking _through _her. He was tall, bald and heavy set, with broad shoulders and a fleshy face. He wasn't a mean person, but he had high expectations of his employees. He sighed, "just get in there," he said gesturing at the conference room, the closed off space within the main office in which individual cases were discussed, "the Fielding case is ready."

Desiree scowled. Fielding was a child abuse case. Alex and Nicole Fielding were regularly beating and neglecting to feed their daughter, 7 year old Danielle. The parents had considerable money and quite a bit of recognition, making their's a case of great importance, so as the top social worker at the agency, naturally she was assigned to it. Social worker had been the obvious career choice for

Desiree. She had always loved Grams' stories about her mother, a devoted young woman, dedicating her life to helping others, Paige had always been a major roll model in Desiree's life. She had strived for nothing more than to fill her mother's old position, but this case had her reeling. The problem was that the Fieldings had money, and thus the best medicine it could buy. They never left any physical evidence and there were no witnesses save Danielle. She would hardly talk for fear of her parents, and what she did say was her word against theirs.

As Desiree entered Mrs. Fielding stood up. "I have had enough of this!" she said firmly, eyes flashing, "first you accuse me of abusing my daughter, you destroy my reputation, pull me and my husband away from our lives, emotionally scar Danny, and this. . ._crusade _doesn't even mean enough for you to be on time! This is ridiculous!" she gathered herself up in a most indignant manner and pulled on her daughter's hand, "come one Danny," she pretended to fight back tears, "lets go!"

Little Danielle looked pleadingly at Desiree as her parents took her roughly by the hands and dragged her out of the office. "Wait," tried Desiree's partner Sofia Roper. She stood as though attempting to follow them, then sank back into her chair. She looked at Desiree, "where the hell were you?" she demanded.

Her tone wasn't mean, nor was her look. She was just annoyed. Without waiting for an answer she stood up and poured herself some coffee from the pot on the nearby table. Desiree ran her fingers through her hair. "I. . .overslept," she said uncertainly.

Sofia glanced at her, amused, "is that your final answer?" she smirked, than turned back to her coffee.

I wish, Desiree thought. She looked despairingly at the Fieldings as they dragged their daughter through the doors. She sighed, "I just wish there was some way we could stop them from leaving," she growled in frustration, "like take her car keys!"

As soon as she uttered the words 'car keys,' she felt an odd tingling on her palm. Sofia turned, frowning, "do you hear bells?" she asked. Desiree, however, wasn't listening. She had gone dead white, staring at her hand. "I," she stammered, "I gotta go."

Sofia stared at her, confused, but Desiree was already rushing from the office. "Halliwell!" yelled Mr. McDermen, but she ignored him. She didn't stop until she was out in the parking lot, sitting in her mother's green Volkswagen Beetle. She leaned her head against the seat and moaned, then looked back down at the rabbit's foot, borders savings clip card and two silver keys in her palm.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Author's Note: Thank you ladytaurus4eva, livelyforest, alboppy and erica for your reviews! The more readers the more writing! And just wait, now they start using their powers by accident, its really cool! Thanx!

Wyatt flicked the strobe light switch on, then off. Nothing happened. "Damn," he swore, "they still aren't working!"

He walked around the island in the middle of the bar, then out onto the open dance floor. "Marty!" he called to the back. The bartender and assistant manager of P3, Marty Crowton, strode through the door of the back room. "What?" he asked.

Marty was an easygoing kinda guy, with a tall, wiry frame and long dredlocks. With the ease and precision of long practice he darted around the many boxes strewn across the floor. "The strobe lights still aren't working!" Wyatt complained, gesturing at the track fastened to the ceiling.

Marty frowned, "they were working this morning, I swear!" he looked up at them, "they seem fine to me," he argued, "show me."

Wyatt walked again behind the bar and over to the switches. He reached out his hand to flip on the strobe lights, but just then Marty spoke up, "so I hear your cousin came back?"

Wyatt paused, his hand just over the switch, "yeah," he muttered, as though he'd rather forget about it. "How is she?" Marty asked.

Wyatt felt his hand grow warm, but paid it no notice, "I'd rather not talk about it," he snapped. Marty put up his hands defensively, "okay, just asking."

Wyatt flicked the switch marked 'strobe lights.' Instantly flashing, spinning lights played over the entire room. Wyatt looked incredulously up at the lights. Not two minutes ago they hadn't even moved when he'd turned them on, now they were twirling and blinking up a storm. Marty grinned, "they seem fine to me!" he laughed. Wyatt flicked the switch, then stared up at the lights again as Marty walked away. He shook his head. Nah, he thought. Couldn't be.

–Meanwhile–

Julia ran her hand over the rough and crinkled page. She was still sitting in the attic, but now with the family tree and photo albums in front of her. The book was open to a page explaining a prophecy made by Melinda Warren. At first she had thought it couldn't be true, but a quick glance at the family tree and there was no denying it. She had managed to identify Melinda, Melinda's daughter and. . .the charmed ones. Julia's head was still spinning. Her mother, an all powerful good witch? Couldn't be. And yet, she flipped to a page near the back, here it was in her mother's handwriting. She touched her fingers to the letter.

_Dear Julia,_

_I truly wish that I could tell you this myself, that I could be here to guide you through this. But I can't. None of us can. Don't ask me how I know, I just do. If you're reading this you must know what you are. Your first instinct is probably to be scared. Don't be. If I could handle powers, so can you. I won't lie to you Julia, it will be hard. None can testify to that quite like your aunts and I can. But we've made it as easy as possible for you. The demons are gone, as far as I know, there's only innocents to save. But that's not all. They don't need witches just to save innocents. I don't know what the elders, or whoever controls all this, has in store for you, I truly don't. But whatever it is, you can handle it. You're a Halliwell! Trust in the power of three, and the magic that is a part of you, and always will be. You'll be fine, so long as you have your cousins. I trust you Julia._

_Love,_

_Mom_

Julia closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She was, as always, heartbroken that her mother couldn't be there with her. She was scared, no matter what the letter said. She was a witch! What was she supposed to do now, if her mother hadn't even known? She slid her fingers under the majority of pages, then flipped back to the page on Melinda Warren and the prophecy. Julia scanned the page again, looking for any sign of what was to come after the three sisters. That was what really scared her. Each generation of Halliwells was supposed to get stronger and stronger, but if her mother and aunts had been the three most powerful witches to ever walk the earth. . .what did that make her? She ran her fingers through her hair, then reached for her cup of coffee. Her fingers, however, didn't find it. What she did find was a dusty box. . .sitting on top of the old armoire.

–Meanwhile–

"That's it, that's it, work with me now, work with me. . .beautiful, B-E-A-U-tiful!" the balding photographer bounced and skidded around P3 where, sitting in the middle of a large set in the most glamorous of posses, was the club's latest attraction, Kelly Clarkson. She sat up strait, then draped herself over the construction of steel boxes covered in part of the backdrop, a white sheet. A fan was blowing fake snow in her face, a making her hair fly up around her head. Kelly herself was dressed in a long, simple, white dress and enormous furry boots. Wyatt shook his head. They ought to know that black would be better for that shot. It created a contrast, made her stick out more, and any man with one good eye and half a brain knew that any woman looked better in black. The boots were also too much. Sure they were stylish, but she needed black high heals with straps and buckles, to make her feet look more delicate. He turned away, they know what they're doing, he told himself, though he would have loved to be the one bouncing around Hollywood's latest and greatest with a camera.

_Wyatt_, he turned, looking for who had called him. _Wyatt_, someone whispered softly, more urgent now. "What?" he turned in all directions, looking for the source of the noise, "who's there?"

"Wyatt!" said a sharp voice in his ear he spun around and came nose to nose with Marty. The bartender frowned, "you okay?" he asked.

Wyatt put a hand to his head, his vison blurred. "Fine," he said, trying to mean it. Marty looked him up and down critically. "You don't look so good," he concluded, "maybe you'd better go home. I can handle things here." Wyatt nodded, unable to speak.

As Marty walked away Wyatt heard the voice again. _Wyatt!_ it called, _Wyatt!_ He stumbled, clutching the counter for support. His vision doubled, his head swam, he moaned softly. His knees buckled. . .but he didn't hit the tile floor. He had the strangest sensation of floating, then found himself lying on wood flooring. "Wyatt!" someone screamed, "are you okay!"

He looked up, still dazed. "Julia?" he mumbled. It was his cousin alright, but she was in a rather strange position. She was, or had been, sitting on an old sofa in the attic. She was still in a sitting position. . .just levitating several feet over the sofa.

Author's Note: Sorry for the late post and the lame chapter, its just really hectic at my house and I'm having to squeeze this in between school, Christmas shopping, family time and my evil mother.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

ericafine101:Thanx, I'm glad you think so!

alboppy: Yeah I could have made it a little more emotional. Usually that's my forte, the emotional parts. I was just really rushed when I was writing that part, it was just before I had to leave for school. Sorry, I'll make it up to you! Trust me, Julia has some really emotional scenes!

ladytaurus4eva: Yeah he did! Thanx!

Author's Note: Sorry for the late post, but I don't write over the holidays and its been a little hectic around my house. Oh, and there was a typo on my last post. The author's note was a private vent, never mind about my mom. She's really great, I was just ticked off.

Wyatt blinked up at his cousin. "Ah, Julia?" he mutter, "why are up in the air?"

Julia glared down at him, her mouth twisting into a frown. "Because the view is nice," she snarled, "why do you think I'm up here!? I can't get down!"

In one swift movement Wyatt sat up and rose to his feet, then almost immediately fell back onto the floor. He clung to the door frame, silently begging his head to stop spinning, and blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. Julia's expression changed almost instantly to concern, "are you okay?" she asked breathlessly.

He glared, then opened his moth to tell her he didn't buy her worried act for a minute, but Julia cut him off with a sharp shriek as whatever was holding her up gave way and she dropping back onto the sofa. "Julia!" he yelled, lunging across the room towards her. Julia was frozen in an odd position, obviously afraid of any more unplanned movements. She breathed deeply for a moment, then sprang from the couch like it was on fire. She looked back in an alarmed, angry sort of way, then turned to Wyatt. "What the hell. . ." she started, pointing at the sofa, but then they both heard the front door bang open and Desiree's voice call, "Julia!"

"In the attic!" Julia called back and they heard her scramble up the stairs. After a few loud crashes as Desiree stumbled around the upper floors in her haste to get to the attic, she appeared in the doorway, looking a mess. Her long skirt was torn and wrinkled, her makeup had run as though she had been crying, and her hair was everywhere as it dislodged itself from the her ponytail. "Des!" Julia cried in alarm at the state of her cousin's appearance. Wyatt suddenly forgot how angry he was at Julia as they both ran the crush Desiree in a hug. Desiree leaned on Julia and started to sob as both her cousins wrapped comforting arms around her.

It took maybe ten minutes to calm her down. She sat on the sofa, refusing to let go of Julia, as her cousin held her close and whispered softly and comfortingly in her ear. Wyatt disappeared down the attic steps and returned a few minutes later with three glasses of ice tea. Desiree drank greedily, but Julia set ignored her's so Wyatt just set it on the table. "What happened?" Julia said a last, stroking Desiree's long hair. Desiree sniffed, whimpered softly, then spoke, "I was at work," she began, "and the mother from the Fielding case had just stormed out because I was late. I was annoyed, so I said I wished I could take her car keys, to stop her from leaving, you know? Well, as soon as I said it, I heard this weird . . . _jingling _noise, and my palm felt all funny, and I looked down and . . . and. . .AND THERE THEY WERE!" she screamed finally and collapsed into tears again.

Julia wrapped her arms around Desiree rubbed her small back lightly, letting the disheveled woman cry into her shoulder. Wyatt was sitting in a nearby chair, head in his hands. Wyatt you sniveling coward, Julia thought savagely, I need you! I can only handle so much and one cousin having a nervous breakdown I can handle but two cousins completely falling to pieces I cannot handle and on top of it I have _my_ issues to deal with and. . . "Julia!" Wyatt cut off her train of thought, "I never thought I'd say this to you but _chill out_."

Julia stared at him. "You heard that?" she inquired at last.

Wyatt frowned "Well yeah," he replied, "you practically screamed it at me and. . ." but Desiree cut him off. "What is your issue?" she asked, "she didn't say anything."

Wyatt looked at her blankly, "What do mean? She was yelling at the top of her lungs that she couldn't handle me going to pieces too."

But Desiree shook her head, "no," she said, "you just blew up at her."

Wyatt opened his mouth to reply but at that moment Julia spoke up, "Wyatt," she whispered er voice a little shaky, "I didn't say that. I was _thinking _it, and then you . . . you _heard _it."

Wyatt leaned back in his chair. He didn't look at either of the girls he just gazed out into space as though hypnotized. Then, as suddenly as he had gone into his trance, his mood changed. He rounded on Julia. "You," he spat, standing up and pointing an accusatory finger at her, "you did this! Before you came back there was nothing wrong, everything was perfect! And then you had to come and bring you tricks and you voodoo and . . ." he trailed off, face beet red, shaking with rage.

Julia's face twisted. "What," she hissed, "what are you trying to say to me? That this is MY fault!?!"

Wyatt hesitated for a moment, the yelled, "yes! Yes I am! All this weirdness started when you came back. The spirit board, the attic, the book, it was all your idea!"

Julia stood up, eyes flashing, "I told you once and I'm telling you again, _I had nothing to do with this_!"

Wyatt practically snarled, "liar!"

Julia gasped then bared her teeth and screamed back, "you be careful what you say to me Wyatt Halliwell!"

"Or what?" Wyatt leered, "you gonna turn me into a toad you . . . you . . . witch!"

Julia gaped at him, "What did you call me!?!"

"Guys," Desiree mumbled.

"A witch," Wyatt yelled, "that's what I called you!"

"Guys," Desiree repeated, a little louder this time.

"If I'm a witch then you're one too! Weird things have been happening to you and don't even try to pin it all on me, because you can't! Deep inside you know that you're just as much of a freak as I am, if I'm crazy you are too!"

"Guys!" Desiree was screaming now, "look!" Julia and Wyatt both gasped. The entire contents of the attic was flying and swooping and soaring through the air. Anything not bolted to the floor or nailed to the walls, and a few thing that were, was zooming in a great circle over their heads. Julia screamed and ducked as an enormous box of what looked like knitted things went whizzing by her head. "Who's doing it?" Wyatt yelled over he roar of the wind.

"I don't know," Desiree screeched as an old headboard dived at her and forced her onto the floor with her cousins, "but whoever it is _make it stop_!"

Julia closed her eyes and tried to imagine everything as it had been a minute ago but the junk tornado raged on. Wyatt scrunched up his face in concentration, but nothing fell. "Its not working!" Desiree cried.

"I see that!" Julia screamed. Then an idea hit her. She thought back to the book and the at least half-dozen rhymes in a section marked, _annulment spells._ Without giving it a second thought, she began."Guided spirits, hear our plea, annul this magic, let it be!"

The noise as everything in the attic fell back into place was deafening. A great banging and crashing filled the room and the three of them covered their heads. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. With one final creak of the floor boards the room was silent. Wyatt, Julia and Desiree stood up slowly, cautiously, then looked at one another. Desiree was trembling. Wyatt's face was pale. Julia looked from one to the other. Her heart pounded, her bottom lip trembled, her eyes watered and a lump formed in her throat. "I'm outta here." she said in a choked voice, and ran from the room. Neither of the tried to stop her as she fled the house.

Julia bolted down the front steps and ran down the sidewalk for all she was worth. She had never wanted to get away from a place so much in her life. The tears came, as she new they would, flowing down her cheeks like milk from a pitcher. She couldn't take it any more, she couldn't handle it. All the freakish things that had been going on, and now this, putting her family's lives in danger. It cut like knife, and she cried from the pain of it. She hated Wyatt for what he'd said, but deep down she knew why it had hurt so much. It was true. It had all started when she'd returned, and in a way, it was her fault. She had found the spirit board she had read the message. She had insisted on going to the attic and she had read th incantation. She just didn't think, and that was putting people in danger, people she loved in danger. Her entire body was numb, but the pain in her heart was raw and ripping and . . . god, what had she done? Wyatt and Desiree could have easily have gotten killed in their, and she would have been to blame. She was a good three blocks from the manor when she stopped running. She leaned against a tree, then sank into a sitting position. She put her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees and cried all the pain he was feeling into her old, faded jeans.

"Hey," said a voice from above her. She looked up into a pair of startlingly green eyes. A man, about her age, with scraggly black hair and a stylish goatee, in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and long black over-jacket. He was handsome, muscular, with broad shoulders, long legs and a devilish yet kind smile.

"Hi," Julia whispered. She knew she must look a mess, old t-shirt, faded dirty jeans, face blotchy and tear-stained, ut she took the hand he offered her and stood, never taking her eyes from his face. He smiled again, and Julia's heart flipped over. "Listen," he began, "I'm not, real good at this but, you don't seem to be doing so good and I know this nice little coffee shop not too far from the neighborhood and I thought, maybe you'd wanna come, you know, to talk."

Julia wiped her eyes and gave him the best smile she could manage. "I'd like that." she muttered, "I'm Julia."

"Alec," he smiled again in his sort of shy sort of impish way and suddenly Julia felt a little bit better.

Author's Note: challenge; who can guess who, or what, Alec is? if you have any questions about the chapter or story, just ask. My test group had some touble with this chapter so if you have any concerns about the clarity of the story, please let me know.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Author's Note: This chapter starts a little while later, but don't worry I'll explain everything. Thanks for all your great reviews! I'm glad you like it!

erica: no not the whitlighter, read and find out!

elisaday16: i'm cool. they will meet part of the family within the next few chapters, I promise!

eacstl: I will, thanks!

"I. Feel. Ridiculous." Desiree emphasized each word to try and communicate some fraction of the stupidity she was feeling to her cousin. She sat at the table in the attic, swinging the scrying crystal over a map of San Francisco. Julia had been gone almost an hour, and they were getting worried. There was no answer on her cell phone, so the two of them had taken a look in the book of shadows. Each of their parents had written a letter to them, comforting words mingled with warnings of great dangers. The one thing all three letters had in common was a message of unity, _stay together_. They both knew they had to find Julia, but neither of them had ay idea where she was. So they had resorted to a method of finding something on a page marked, _reliable_. Scrying.

"Just keep trying," Wyatt muttered from his fourth trip around the room, as he paced restlessly, examining every inch of the attic, "if our parents say it works it does." He stopped in front of a pile of boxes and, not really paying any attention to what he was doing, began to sort through them. He removed two from the top of a stack, then stopped, his hand lingering. He looked at the label on the side of the box; _Prue_. What on earth, he thought, who's Prue? "Hey Des," he called over his shoulder as he opened he lid of the brown moving box, "do you remember anyone named Prue?"

Desiree looked at him curiously, "no," she answered, "why?"

Wyatt turned to her, "because her name is on this box." Desiree dropped the crystal and rose to join him. The two of them peered into the box. "Camera equipment?" Wyatt said, glancing at his cousin. Desiree shrugged, but Wyatt's heart pounded. He couldn't remember Grams ever mentioning a Prue before, an yet here was a box of camera equipment, photos and undeveloped film. Magic, demons, Elders and now this? He began to wonder, what other secrets had been kept from them all their lives? He dropped the folder of scenic pictures and crossed the room to the sofa. On the floor, right where Julia had dropped it, was an old photo album. It was open to a page of shots all depicting three women. The right side had pictures of Piper, Phoebe and Paige, but the left held pictures of Phoebe, Piper, and another woman Wyatt had never seen before. She was beautiful, with long dark hair, a great figure and a little spot that he guessed was a beauty mark above her lip.

He backed away, not daring to believe it, not _wanting_ to believe it. He sat down hard on the sofa and put his head in his hands. How had this happened? Yesterday he had been a normal person, living a normal life in a normal family. Today his life was anything but normal, and he was going to have to deal with it. Like he always had to deal with it. Ever since he had been little, maybe six or seven, his cousins had been his responsibility. He was the oldest, so the responsibility always fell to him. He had never wanted the club. Julia had spent the most time their, he never cared much for the place. But it had been his mother's, so now it was his responsibility to keep it alive and in business. The house had been in their family for generations, so he had to live there. It was his family, so he had to take care of it. This time however, he wasn't sure he could.

-Meanwhile-

Julia sipped her coffee and smiled genuinely at Alec. Ever since she had agreed to come here she had felt ten times better. Something about normal, human interaction made the day's events seem more like a bizarre dream. Julia had always been social, she found comfort in the presence of people outside her family. They were sitting outside a little coffee shop, at a small circular table, sipping cups of steaming hot coffee. Alec flashed dazzlingly white teeth at her, "So, why were you so upset?" he asked conversationally.

Julia sighed; she knew this topic would come up sooner or later. "There's just a lot going on in my life right now, and it all happened pretty fast. I guess it just all seemed sort of . . . unreal, until my cousin flew off the handle." Julia looked aside, not wanting him to see the anger in her eyes, but he put his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. "Your cousin sounds like a real jerk," he said, true sincerity in his eyes, "pushing you over the edge like that."

Again Julia avoided his gaze, "Well I haven't been so great to him. Ever." Alec just laughed, "What could you have possibly done to him? You seem too sweet to do anything bad."

Julia blushed as she met his eyes, then smiled impishly, "Who says I can't be bad?" Alec mirrored her evil grin, "I don't know, why don't you show me?"

Julia reached out over he table and gripped him by his shirt collar, then pulled, forcing him to lean out over the table, and kissed him hard. For a moment he was too stunned to respond, then raise a hand to work his fingers into her hair and pulled her even closer. When she pulled back Julia was gasping for breath. Alec breathed deeply, then looked deep into her eyes. "You know I have this little boat moored at the pier, the sunset over the water is too amazing to miss. Come with me, I'll show you," he held out his hand to her. Julia took it, without any fear.

The taxi down to the pier took maybe ten minutes, and it wasn't a long walk to a cozy looking little boat moored at a nearby dock. Alec helped her onto the deck and untied the ropes that held it to the dock, then went to stand beside Julia at the bow. He handed her a glass of champagne. "Wow," Julia said, impressed, "you had this just lying around?"

Alec nodded, "just something you keep just in case a beautiful girl wants to come over on a whim." The compliment however was quite lost on Julia. She suddenly began to feel uneasy. He hadn't been gone two minutes, and yet he'd had time to come up with chilled champagne on a moments notice? He seemed just a bit too . . . ready, for her. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to regain the confidence she'd had in the situation only moments before, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Oh shut up Julia, she told herself, your just being paranoid. She turned to look at him. He was gazing out over the bay, utterly calm. A lot calmer, it seemed, the when he was just passing her on the street. She breathed deep and regarded him carefully. That was when she noticed the knife in his belt.

-Meanwhile-

Desiree flipped for the umteenth time through the photo album. Picture upon picture of this Prue woman with her two aunts, the first half of the album showed nothing else. The other half was her mother, Paige, Piper and Phoebe, all smiling like old friends. But they were old friends, she reminded herself. They were sisters, they had grown up together, but then why, when there were so many pictures of them and Prue, were there none with all four of them? In fact, none of the pictures showed Prue and Paige together, not one. She sighed and shut the album with a snap, then set it down on the table. "Desiree," came Wyatt's voice from behind her.

She turned, but Wyatt wasn't looking at her. He was staring off into space, and he had gone very pale. "What is it?" she asked, "What's wrong?"

He looked up at her as though he had just noticed she was there. "We need to find Julia," he said. Desiree was about to shoot a smart retort back at him, but the level of worry in his voice caught her attention. "Why?" she asked

Wyatt got up from the couch, strode over to the table and picked up the scrying crystal. He seemed almost panicked as he began to swing it over the map. "We need to find her," he said simply, "she's in trouble. She needs help."

Desiree stared at him, "how do you know?"

Wyatt slammed his fist down onto the table, "because I know Dammit! I just . . . I just know something's wrong." He ran is fingers through his hair, "Look don't ask me to explain it Des, just trust me. We need to find her, now!" he turned his attention back to scrying.

Desiree sighed, "you'll never find her that way," she interjected, "it just doesn't work." Wyatt looked up at her, "so we'll try it together."

Desiree moved in close to Wyatt and grasped his shoulder, focusing her attention on the crystal. Wyatt's nerves quieted a bit at feeling his cousin next to him. He stared at the crystal and willed it to drop, willed it to tell him where his cousin was, before it was too late. _Wyatt_ whispered a soft voice, _Wyatt_. "Do you hear something?" he asked.

Desiree shook her head, focusing on the map. "No," _Wyatt_, the voice called again, _Desiree_. Desiree looked up at him, "actually. . ." she gave him a questioning look. Suddenly Desiree began to get very dizzy. She clung to Wyatt for support, but he was leaning on the table as the room spun around him. "What the . . ." Desiree mumbled, but that was all she said before the whole room went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Author's Note: nobody reviewed on the last chapter but my #1 fan erica, thank you, I hope the rest of you like this chapter better. It's a fight scene:)

"Wyatt," Julia whispered under her breath on the pretense of sipping her champagne, "if you can hear me come quick. You heard my thoughts and you heard me calling when you appeared in the manor, please hear me now." Alec smiled down at her, and Julia gulped. She tried to tell herself it wasn't what it seemed, that the knife was just . . . maybe . . . she couldn't explain it. She was trembling badly and it took all her self control not to scream and jump into the water, but she knew she couldn't.

Alec moved slightly closer to Julia and she backed up a step, trying not to be too jerky and obvious. It didn't work however, because Alec cocked his head and frowned at her, "what's wrong?" Julia breathed deeply and tried to be calm, but the blade of silver flashing in his belt reminded her that she had everything to be afraid of. "Nothing," she said finally, "why would you think something's wrong?"

But Alec didn't buy it. He followed her gaze to his belt, where the knife glinted in the fading light. He smiled, "Oh, that," he said, and drew it from his belt. Julia backed up a little as he advanced on her. "I suppose you don't know much about any of this," he began, twirling the knife in his fingers, "having just come into your powers and all."

Julia gulped, choking down a scream, "how . . . how do you know about that?" Alec smiled, the shyness, the innocence, the nervousness gone, replaced by a menacing display of suddenly sharp teeth, "I know an awful lot about you and your family, things that you don't even know yourself. Like the fact that your mother, your grams, everyone in your family, are good witches. Sickening goody two shoes, the whole bunch of you," he took a swipe at her and she jumped back. He stalked her towards the edge of the boat, trying to back her up against the railing. She changed her step and veered off to one side, refusing to let him corner her.

"You . . . you _Halliwells_ thought you had us, but you were wrong," he lunged again and she jumped back, but the floor under her feet was slick with sea water and she slipped, landing hard on the wooden deck. Alec laughed as she scuttled backwards along the deck, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. "No, not even the greatest of all covens could defeat Him, and He restored us."

"Who is he?" Julia asked, trying to buy time.

Alec sneered at her, "He is the great one, the master of all demons, stronger than any being, stronger than the source, and strong enough to defeat any witch!" he threw his head back and howled with laughter, and Julia saw her chance. She reached out with her leg and slammed her foot against his shin. She scrambled to her feet as he yelled and clutched at his leg, and she bolted across the deck to the wheel. She turned it, steering them back towards the pier. She swung to face Alec just as a ball of what looked like blue lightning appeared in his hand and he threw it as hard as he could at her. She ducked and it hit the wheel instead, blowing her only hope of escape into charred splinters. Julia panicked, then screamed, "Help! Wyatt! Desiree! Anybody!"

Alec was picked up his dropped knife and advanced on Julia, but something made them both turn. A flurry of bright lights swirled off to their left and suddenly Wyatt was clinging to the railing and Desiree was sprawled on the deck. Both of them looked like the woken dead, but Julia couldn't have imagined any sight more beautiful at that point. Wyatt regained his balance and pulled Desiree to her feet, then looked at Julia. "What's going on?" he asked.

Alec however answered the question for her as he lunged at Desiree. She screamed and dived behind Wyatt. Julia ran to her cousins and all three of them faced Alec together. He yelled in rage and conjured another blue-lightning-ball-thing at them and raised it as if to throw it, but Wyatt put up a hand to defend himself and suddenly Alec went flying. "Wow!" cried Julia, "did you do that?"

Wyatt looked down at his hands, "I have no idea."

Alec rose to his feet snarling with rage, "you won't get the best of me witches!" he cried, "I'm too strong to be vanquished!"

"Wanna bet!" Julia grinned, the flung out her arm as though she were backhanding someone. Alec flew back again and hit the railing hard. "That is too cool!" Julia grinned.

Wyatt glared at her, "Have you forgotten that our lives are at stake here!"

Alec rose again, still determined. "You can't keep this up forever!" he yelled, and they knew he was right. "We have to get rid of him!" Desiree screamed.

"I think I have an idea," Wyatt said and lunged at Alec, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled with each other, biting and scratching, rolling over and over. First Wyatt was on top, then Alec. Finally Alec pinned Wyatt to the deck and pressed down on his throat, cutting of his air.

"What do we do?" Desiree screamed frantically. Julia thought fast, "the book," she said, "it was full of spells to vanquish demons, but which one do we use?"

She furrowed her brow in concentration and started mumbling to herself, "Evil wind that blows . . . no that's no good, evil eyes look onto. . . no that's not right either."

"Julia!" Wyatt yelled, straining to fight free of Alec's grip. Desiree stared at her cousin as he fought to save her, _her_! She had to do something. She couldn't remember a single spell from the book, but she had to try, "evil one who threatens me, who seeks to kill my family, may hell me your journey's end, so you shall never kill again!"

Alec screamed like the devil in sunlight and erupted in a pillar of flames. Wyatt sat up quickly and felt at his shirt, but he hadn't been burned. He looked up at Desiree, "thanks," he breathed.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Author's Note: I apologize for the second delay in a row, the winter has always been a hectic time for me. This was my birthday weekend, plus I had midterms last week. I really, _really_ hope you like the new chapter, a lot of things are explained. Please review! I like long reviews but short ones are great too.

A.N.P.S. I made a slight error in chapter one, which I have fixed so please reread it.

ericafine101: you are the only one who has reviewed for every chapter, thank you!

Magic-Amethyst80: reread the first chapter, he's in a retirement home. I mean, he had grey hair even before any of the kids were born! He didn't help raise them because of the whole 'he's a mortal not capable of protecting wiccan children' thing, which is one of the few things I actually took from the show, lol!

Julia took the book from the table and sat down on the sofa, then settled both her hands gently on the cover and leaned back, sighing. Wyatt was leaning against the attic door frame and Desiree was sitting at the table on which the scrying crystal and map lay. Wyatt looked from one girl to the other. "Are you sure you guys want to do this?"

"Wyatt we can't just ignore what's been happening," Desiree said pointedly, rising to walk to a chest full of candles, incenses and assorted other magical items. Magical, the word made Wyatt shiver. Magic was for storybooks and kids movies, not real life, _his_ life, but crossed the room and bent down over the chest with Desiree, gathering materials as Julia read out instructions for summoning the dead. Once the candles were in place and lit, and the table was set up, Julia stepped awkwardly into the circle to join her cousins at the table. Then three of them began to chant, in eerily perfect unison; "Unknown spirit we seek you guidance. We ask that you commune with us and move among us. Unknown spirit we seek you guidance. We ask that you commune with us and move among us. Unknown spirit we seek you guidance. We ask that you commune with us and move among us."

After the third chant they stopped, as though commanded by an invisible force. Desiree gulped. She didn't know why she'd stopped, or why her cousins had, she just knew she was finished. An ominous silence filled the room, chilling all three of them to the bone. Then, as though someone had just opened a window, a slight breeze blew over the table, brushing their faces like the furry tail of a cat, and someone seemed to sigh, though none of them were even breathing. A faint light glittered in the air over the table, then grew brighter and brighter and brighter still. Then the light faded, melting away to reveal the form a beautiful young woman dressed in a flowing white robe. She had long dark hair, a kind face, slender features . . . and their was a little dot above her lip.

"Prue," he breathed.

Julia glanced at him, "who?"

The woman, the ghost really, laughed lightly, "Prudence Halliwell," she extended her hand as thought to shake Wyatt's, "nice to meet you, finally." No one said or did anything in reply, so she withdrew her hand uncomfortably.

"Who are you?" Wyatt said at last. Prue frowned, "didn't you look at the photo album? Yeah, I saw you look through it," she eyed him carefully, puzzled.

"Yeah, we looked through it, but it kinda . . ." he trailed off looking at Desiree for support. "Left us with more questions then answers," she finished for him.

Then Wyatt gasped and glared at her, "wait, how'd you know we looked through it? Have you been spying on us?"

Prue grinned, "well what else did you expect me to do with my afterlife than watch over my family?"

"Look, no offense, but we don't know you," Julia said, looking up at Prue, "its kinda hard to think of it as a family thing when we've never met you."

Prue looked from one to the other, taking in all three of them, indeed as though seeing them for the first time. "Yeah, I guess it is kinda weird," she said at last, then bowed her head, looking at the hem of her long white robe, "but for this to work, you couldn't know about me, about any of this."

"Any of what?" Wyatt questioned. She glanced up at him, then back at her feet, and all four of them became silent for a long moment. Finally, Desiree voiced the question they were all dying to know; "What's going on?"

Prue took a deep breath, then looked up at them, "the three of you are witches," she began, but Wyatt cut her off, "yeah we figured that part out already," he interjected, stony faced, "now tell us what that means."

Prue once again looked at her feet, "that, unfortunately, is the one thing I can't tell you. Not because I don't want to, because I don't know myself. I can't tell you about the future, only the past."

Wyatt opened his mouth to snap at her, but Julia spoke first. "Then just start there," she said quietly, her face soft. Prue smiled at Julia, "and here I thought it would be Phoebe's kid yelling at me."

"How do you know Julia's mom?" Wyatt asked, distrust still in his voice. "Simple," Prue answered, "I'm her sister."

That shocked them into silence. All three of them gazed, open mouthed, at Prue. She could have said she was the Princess of Zanzibar and Phoebe had been her maid and it wouldn't have had quite this effect. After several minutes of silence Julia found her voice. "What," she stuttered, "but . . . but that's . . . that's just . . ." she trailed off, to stunned to complete the sentence.

Wyatt swallowed, with some difficulty, his mouth being very dry, and stammered, "but that would make you," but he was cut off again, this time by Prue. "Piper's and Paige's sister too. And your aunt."

Now Prue turned to Desiree, "Actually, I'm only Paige's half sister. In fact, Paige had a different father than Phoebe or Piper."

Desiree stared at her. "But that," she whispered, "that doesn't make any sense."

"Actually it does. You see Paige didn't grow up in the manner, and her last name wasn't Halliwell, legally anyway. I grew up here with Phoebe and Piper, not her. She was put up for adoption when she was small, so no one would know."

Desiree wasn't crying. She closed her eyes against the tears and bit her bottom lip to keep it still, then looked once again up at Prue. "Why couldn't anyone know about her?" Prue sighed deeply. They could tell it was hurting her, greatly, to have to tell Desiree this, but she continued. "Her parents, Patty and a man named Sam, weren't allowed to be together. They were afraid of what the elders might do to your mother if they found out."

"Then . . . then how did she meet you guys? Why was she here?"

"She needed to be. As I think you've already learned from those letters, the strength of the Halliwell coven comes from the unity of its members. Three members. That's the Halliwell thing, three. There were three charmed one, and now the three of you. I died a few years into my life as a witch. I guess I can really relate to your situation."At that Wyatt raised his eyebrows and Prue quickly added, "Not because I'm dead, but because last generation had their powers bound too. We only found out after Grams died. She was resurrected to take care of you. When I died the charmed circle was broken, and that's when Phoebe got the premonition about Shax, the demon that killed me, killing Paige. When she and Piper tried to protect her they wound up finding out who she was, so she reconstituted the power of three."

Desiree had been staring down throughout Prue's entire speech, and now she slowly looked up at her aunt. Wyatt and Julia waited with baited breath, expecting sobbing, screaming, an explosion of telekinetic energy, some kind of outburst, something that would show what she was feeling. But there was no crying or screaming or moving of objects, she simply looked at Prue, then asked, "the demon we faced today mentioned a He. A kind of all powerful He that could 'restore' demons that had already been vanquished. Any idea what that was about?"

"None. The elders thought Phoebe, Piper and Paige had vanquished all the demons, and they hadn't sensed any until this afternoon during Alec's attack. He must have been vanquished by another witch, because I don't remember him."

"Well that puts us right back at square one," Wyatt said throwing up his hands, "powers we can't control, a family we don't understand and an ultra-demon we know absolutely nothing about."

"We do know one thing," Julia said, "he can bring back any number of demons to send after us, and he won't stop until we stop him." no one asked how Julia knew. They were all thinking the same thing. They knew nothing would be the same now, nothing would be easy. But they would have to learn to live with.

A sudden jingling sound sent Prue's gaze skyward. "Oh no," she murmured, "the elders want me back up."

"Wait!" cried Julia, "you can't leave! What about . . ." but Prue couldn't wait. "I'm sorry," she said as the lights that had brought her there returned, swirling around her feet and moving slowly upward, "I can't stay! Don't worry, you'll be fine, as long as you have each other!"

They stepped back as the lights swirled up her body and she began to fade. Just before she vanished Wyatt said quietly, "so it was your camera stuff." Prue's eyes locked on Wyatt's, and for a moment he saw himself reflected there, a young dreamer, struggling to find himself and be strong for his family all at once. Just for a moment, he wasn't afraid. She nodded slowly and then disappeared completely.

They all stood, and for a moment none of them moved. No words passed between them, just a silent, mutual understanding. "Come on," Wyatt said at last, "lets get some sleep."

Wyatt and Desiree walked through the attic door and down the stairs, but Julia lingered. She blew out the candles, the walked to the table picked up the book and replaced it upon the pedestal. For a moment she flipped idly through the pages, eyes flicking passed demon after demon, and she found herself filled, not with fear, but with confidence, determination, even, she realized, a little excitement. She could do this, no matter what it took. As long as she had her cousins she had everything she needed. Suddenly a page that seemed thicker than the others pushed passed her thumb. She returned to it and held it, trying to figure out what was different. It seem almost as though two pages were stuck together. On one side was a picture of banshee, pale skin and grey rags, coupled with a descriptive paragraph, but when she tried to turn the page it stuck fast, refusing to separate from the next one. Oh well, she thought, it was probably nothing. She would try to steam them apart tomorrow. Tonight it was best just to get some shut eye. She had a feeling she was going to need it. Julia closed the book and followed her cousins down the steps, then went into her room and climbed into bed, but the page kept nagging at her. She tossed and turned, thinking about what could be on those hidden pages, until sleep finally claimed her.

Author's Note: who remembers what's one the back of the Banshee page?!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Author's Note: Sorry for this most recent delay, don't really have a good excuse, just life. Reviews would be nice motivators though! _Hint Hint! _;)

Erica: not sure when I'll add in a whitelighter, not even sure if I will. I mean, Wyatt could kinda sorta maybe serve as their whitelighter, after all he is half angel and we've already proved he can heal and orb and hear their calls. Thanks for the review, I loved Prue too! Not that I don't like Paige, but Prue was an awesome character!

Julia's steps were slow and deliberate, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floor, echoing off the high ceiling. She was in an enormous cavern, probably underground. Fiery light emanated from the walls, somewhere behind raised stands, as though for spectators. The floor had some kind of design on it, a painted path with intricate designs, leading up to a circular area with, what looked like, an inverted pentagram, with its points touching the edges of the circle. Inverted pentagram. Julia thought hard, biting her lip. That should mean something to her, she was sure it did, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. "Is it to your liking my queen?"

The voice startled Julia, and she swung around to confront the newcomer. The intruder was a fairly young looking black woman, early to mid thirties, with black hair tied back in a ponytail, one odd looking, dangling earing and a red shaw covering most of her form. Julia open her mouth to snap at the woman, or better yet, to ask why she had been called 'queen', but the words that issued from her throat were something entirely different.

"Yes, it will do for the ceremony." Ceremony? What the hell was she talking about? But the black woman was speaking again, "All previous Sources had their coronations here, but you are hardly the typical Source of All Evil."

Source of All Evil? What was going on here? She tried again to speak, to tell this woman that she was sadly mistaken, but again she surprised herself with her words. "Indeed, which is why I will require several things to complete the effect of this coronation. It is to be not just a coming into power, but a performance for all of the underworld. I will show each and every demon the extent of my powers, and none of them will ever think to challenge me."

The woman, who Julia had now come to suspect was anything but, bowed her head slightly, then said, "what is it you require?"

By now Julia had quite given up on controlling her own voice, so she just listened to herself as she said, "Just a few thing really. A few magical artifacts; amulets, spells, enchanted objects, you get the idea. And I will need every upper level demon to re-pledge his or her loyalty and relinquish their greatest power to me." She turned her back on the woman and strode over to a full length mirror conveniently placed just behind her, Julia though, then surveyed her reflection. She was wearing a long black dress with a one or two foot train, and long sleeves with pointed extensions dangling down almost until they touched the floor. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun and on her head rested a black iron tiara, with black jewels set into the ornate design. But her eyes were what caught Julia's attention. Even when she was angry or upset, her eyes still retained some of the playful , mischievous, childlike sparkle. She stared into the mirror, into cold, black, empty eyes, completely devoid of warmth and kindness. "Oh, and one more thing. I will require powerful witches for my sacrifices. Wyatt and Desiree Halliwell, the children of the Charmed Ones, ought to do it."

Julia lurched into a sitting position, nearly falling off the bed. Sweat was pouring down her face and her mouth was stretched wide in a silent scream. Each breath tore her dry throat, and she clutched her stomach in pain. She jerked the covers from her legs and bolted out of bed, strait for the bathroom. She dropped to the floor and lifted the lid of the toilet, just in time to direct the wave of bile into it. She sat back, head hammering, body aching, gasping for air. She heard the pat pat pat of bare feet on the wood floor, and turned to see Wyatt standing in the doorway. She pulled her long nightshirt down to cover her bare legs. She was feeling very exposed as it was.

Wyatt surveyed his cousin, and pity filled him. She was a wreck, pale, sweaty, shaking from head to toe. There were bags under her eyes, a tribute to the sleepless nights of the past week. There were traces of what looked like vomit around her mouth, and here hair was coming free of its ponytail, making her look like some deranged insomniac. "This is the fifth night in a row you've had this nightmare," he said, concern in his voice. "We've got to find out what's causing it."

She pulled her legs in to her chest and hugged her ankles, curling herself up into a ball. She looked like a frightened child, Wyatt thought. There had to be something he could do for her. She spoke in a shaky voice through her knees, "every time I close my eyes I see that image, me reflected in the mirror. I look so angry, so cold. I look so . . . evil. _Am _so evil."

Wyatt knelt beside his cousin. "Don't say that," he began, "there is no one in the world I know who is less evil then you Julia. Its just a dream, just a nightmare."

But Julia shook her head, "No, its not. I feel it. Even after I wake up, I feel it. Something inside of me. Something horrible."

Julia turned her face to the side, refusing to look at him. He saw the pain written on her face and he felt so helpless, so powerless to make his cousin see what a wonderful person she was. Her eyes glazed over, the memory flashing behind them. He felt trapped, but he knew however defenseless he felt, Julia must be feeling ten time worse. Claustrophobic in her own body, in her own mind. He held out his hand to help her up, "Come on."

He jerked her to her feet, then pulled her down the hallway and up the attic stairs. He circled around the pedestal until he was directly in front of the book, the let go of Julia's hand. "Here," he said simply.

Julia placed her hand on the cover of the book. She felt familiarity, even though she had only first seen it a week ago. Over the course of the past week things had been relatively normal. No elders, no demons, they still didn't know what a whitelighter was, and there had been no attacks by some all powerful demon. They had tried to summon Prue again, but it seemed the elders really, _really _wanted them to figure it out on their own, if the continued struggle to control their powers was any indication of the elder's intent. She looked knowingly at Wyatt, "Do you really think the answer to my nightmares is in here?"

Wyatt tried to smile encouragingly, but failed as Julia continued to grin in that self-satisfied, I-know-you-better-than-you-know-you, way. "Okay, I don't really think their's something that will help in there, but you seem to believe in it. And from my experience when you believe in something you keep working at it till you get what you want."

Julia ran her hand once more over the hardened leather, then flipped the book open to a page midway through. Wyatt read aloud, "Banshee; a creature that feeds off the pain of tortured souls. How exactly does this relate to your nightmares?"

Julia rolled her eyes, "its not this page dorkus, it's the other side. Its stuck to the next page, and I can't seem to separate them. Its been bugging me forever, I can't steam them apart I can't pull them apart, its like its being held by magic."

Wyatt focused on the book. The pages hardly seemed stuck at all. It was almost as though it were one page, but it was far too thick. The edges formed together seamlessly, as if. . . "Maybe it is magic," he suggested. "Look, see how perfectly they're connected? Its almost like its one page, its just to thick. Maybe someone or something is trying to keep you from seeing these pages."

Julia inhaled deeply, raising her shoulders in an exaggerated motion. Her eyes locked on the bok as though mesmerized, her brow furrowed in concentration."I'm not sure." she looked up at him, determined, "but I know that whatever is on these pages is important, and I'm going to find out what it is." She shut the book and walked from the attic, leaving him to stare worryingly after her.

Author's Note: I know I haven't been keeping to my schedule, but I promise I'll be posting as often as I can. This chapter is a bit short and kinda lame, but it gets the point across. Really, who does remember what was on the other side of the banshee page, or who can guess after reading this?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Author's Note: That's it, I refuse to write another chapter unless someone reviews! Someone new, someone old, I don't care! I'm sick of this story, I'm only writing it because you seemed to like it, but if you don't I'm deleting it! I am not writing anymore chapters unless you ask me to!

"I need to help a little girl, but can't seem to improve her world, I cast this spell to find good luck, and hope her life will cease to suck."

Desiree opened her eyes. She was sitting on the sofa in the attic, staring at the book of shadows, open to a page on which a spell for good luck, a variation of which she had just used, was hastily written in black marker. She sighed. That was it, there was just nothing in here to help with her social services case. She had tried everything, from a spell to help reveal inner evil (this hadn't worked since the Fieldings weren't demons) to a spell she had made up on her own, with some doubts, to make a person talkative in the hope that it would get Danielle to speak out against her parents. All that had succeeded in was making Sofia, Desiree's partner at the agency, go on and on about her bastard ex-husband for nearly two hours, which had almost gotten them both fired when Mr. McDermen had walked in on them. Desiree was starting to think that magic just wasn't to be used for ordinary things like this.

But she was supposed to use her powers to do good, wasn't she? And what was more _good _than helping a little girl escape an abusive family? Something she could do without magic if she really tried, Desiree reminded herself. But she had tried. And tried and tried. There was just nothing for it. Nothing but magic. But magic didn't seem to want to help either. "Desiree?"

Desiree turned to find Julia standing in the doorway. She leaned in slightly to peer at the book. "Looking for a little luck?" she asked, grinning. The smile didn't reach her eyes. They were tired, weary with stress and anxiety. It was the smile of the weak and the deeply troubled, almost to the point when they had given up, lost all hope. "You look like hell," she said, without thinking.

Julia laughed softly through her nose, "If only you knew how right you are." She crossed the room in three slow strides and settled down beside Desiree on the sofa, draping her long willowy arms over the back and crossing her slender legs in front of her. Desiree leaned back too, the book in front of her, resting on her legs. "Still having nightmares?" Desiree asked, glancing at Julia.

Julia nodded, staring intently at the page. "Finances have run amok, creditors I soon must duck, I cast this spell to find good luck, and hope my life will cease to suck. Is this the spell you used to help Danielle?"

Desiree grimaced, "I modified it a little. You know, to make it not so centered around money."

Julia nodded. After a moment she spoke, quietly and without looking at Desiree. "Why do you want to win this case so much?"

Desiree looked at her blankly for a moment. "Well because . . . because its my job, I guess," she said after a moment. "Because winning this case will make the agency look good, and the more successful we appear to be the more funding we get from the state and . . ."

But Julia was shaking her head. "I didn't ask why the social services agency wants you to win this case, I asked why you want to win it."

Desiree thought for a moment. "Because I'd be helping a little girl," she said at last, "because . . . I like helping people. I just haven't been very good at it lately."

Julia let a small, knowing smile creep onto her face, "could that be because you're having a little trouble taking care of yourself, let alone other people? Battling your demons should come before battling other peoples', otherwise you'll wind up as just another good citizen, doesn't get any kudos, and doesn't have anything more to give."

Desiree stared at her cousin for a moment. Finally she spoke, almost incredulously. "Julia, you might actually be . . . right."

At this Julia threw her head back and laughed, "well duh! My mom _was _an advice columnist, its not like I'm completely insensitive!"

Desiree laughed too. It felt good, freeing. Then she remembered Danielle, and the crushing weight of reality threatened to come crashing down on her. She looked off to one side, thinking. Julia stopped laughing too and looked at her quizzically. "What is it?"

Desiree bit her lip, "its just, I have to help Danielle, I just . . . have to. But I'm not sure how. I mean I've tried all the usual methods, I've tried magic. I just don't see what's left for me to try."

Julia looked regarded Desiree for a moment, then spoke, "You are one of the best social workers in the state. You have helped more people then anyone I can think of. If there's anyone who can help this kid, its you. You, you have been helping people your whole life. I was the middle cousin, but you were always the referee, working out the arguments between me and Wyatt. You were the goody two shoes, the voice of reason, all through childhood, its something you've been doing forever, for you whole life. You've always loved helping people. You might say you have a gift for it. And now you've been given another gift, something you can use to do more good and help more people. You get to help people I new ways, but I can't see that robbing you of your ability to help people the same way you always have. You can do this. You just have to quit doubting yourself."

Desiree looked at Julia, at the girl she had known all her life, but didn't see the teenage girl that never grew up, or the juvenile delinquent that didn't notice anything but her own problems. She saw the young woman, the one that read into people with incredible accuracy, that could see personal problems a mile away, and sense when people needed help or comfort. She saw an wise advisor. Almost like . . . "an advise columnist," he whispered.

Julia looked at her quizzically, "what did you say?"

Desiree shook her head to clear it, "nothing" she said thoughtfully, "just thinking out loud."

Julia nodded, then rose, stretching, "well if you've finally realized what an amazing social worker you are , I'm going to go torture Wyatt," she grinned impishly and bounced from the room.

-Later-

Wyatt ran down the list of supplies for the club on the clipboard in his hand, checking to see the bar was well stocked with all of them. Beer, check, grenadine, check, Jack Danielle's, check, Julia, check . . . Wyatt did a double take. Julia was grinning at him from between two bottles. Wyatt stammered, speechless with a cross between shock and rage."You . . .what are . . . you're not . . . What are you doing here!?!" he demanded at last.

Julia stood, still grinning, "what, do I need an excuse to come and see my favorite cousin at work?" she asked innocently, and loudly.

Wyatt gave her his best glare, then noticed how many employees were staring at them, their attention drawn by his outburst. He forced his face into a painful smile. "No Julia, I just thought you would be at home, _resting_."

Julia rolled her eyes,"yeah but I got tired of resting, so I decided to swing by and see you! Aren't you happy to see me Wyatt?"

Wyatt smiled painfully at the gathering group of employees, and they broke off, deciding there was nothing left to watch, then turned to Julia, and his smile vanished. "No!" he hissed savagely, "go home Julia!"

Julia recoiled, pretending to look affronted, "Wyatt, I just thought you might need some help. But I'm so, so sorry if I'm getting in the way," she spoke loudly, recapturing the attention of the club staff. "But if you don't want me around, I'll just go and sit at home, all by myself, nothing to do," she looked pitifully at Wyatt, sticking out her lower lip in a childish expression of sadness.

Wyatt took a deep breath, then sighed, "okay," he said quietly, "you can stay and help. Just promise you'll do exactly what I tell you."

Julia immediately brightened, "Yay! Thanks Wyatt!"

He sighed, "just go over there and start loading those beer cases into the backroom. Put them in the back and then load in the shipment of liquor we got this morning."

Julia glanced over at the back room an the cases of beer he was referring to, then bit her lip as though thinking. Finally she drew a breath, "if I might interject . . . "

She never finished the thought. Wyatt threw a harsh, sharp, "no," at her before she had even gotten the words out.

She threw up her hands defensively, "alright, okay, alright, I just thought that since people more commonly order beer than liquor, it would be better to put that in front so that we can get to it easier and quicker, and keep more customers from walking off in a huff and trashing the club to their friends. But hey, you're the boss." she slid out from behind the counter and walked off towards the backroom.

Wyatt watched her go. He knew she was right, putting th beer in front would increase the club's efficiency, but he wasn't going to let Julia know that. Ever.

Author's Note: I mean it, review or I'll stop writing. I haven't got time for this story as it is, its just a load off my mind!


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: HI!! I'm back! I just can't leave a story unfinished! Plus, a while back, they tried to change the log-in procedure and I got locked out. But they changed it back, so now I'm back! There will not be regular posts, so just forget about it, but I'll try to post as often as I can, and, as always, reviews are appreciated.

Wyatt leaned on the bar, one hand supporting his head, a drink on the table in front of him. He hadn't had a drink at the club in over 4 years, but this was his third in the past hour. He sipped it absently as he watched the band playing up on stage, and the crowd on the dance floor going nuts. That was why he was drinking. It wasn't just that the club was doing well, that wonderful fact was being muted by why it was doing so good. It was the fact that Green Day was playing up on his stage, because of Julia. The band that Wyatt had booked for tonight, a Friday no less, had canceled at the last moment. Just when Wyatt had been about to tell everyone that the club wasn't opening tonight and that they could all go home, Julia had told him that she had worked as a club promoter, and that she could get him a band in no time. Wyatt, believing she could never do it and he would get to watch her get crushed by someone's manager, stepped aside and let her call. A few minutes later she set down the receiver and announced to the entire room that Green Day was in town and was going to play at the club. Wyatt hid behind the bar until the applause died down.

That wasn't all Julia had done, oh no. In the 3 hours she had been at the club before it opened she had managed to rearrange the posters on the wall and add eight, she had gotten out the word about Green Day in a mater of hours, she had reorganize the entire bar area to make it more efficient, and taught Marty how to make three new drinks. The entire club staff loved her, and tonight P3 was getting more customers then ever before. Staring at his cousin dancing up close to the stage, he couldn't think of anything or anyone else he hated more. He drained his drink in one gulp.

"Excuse me," came a high, airy voice off to his right. He turned, and found himself looking directly to the most intense green eyes he had ever seen in his life. Standing not two feet from him was the most gorgeous woman he could imagine. She was beyond imagination. She was . . . perfect. The woman had a lovely, hourglass figure, draped a scanty outfit of green cloth, different shades and hughs, in many small, almost ragged layers, like her skirt was made entirely out of large leaves. Her silky red hair glided down her back, with tiny flowers stuck in so perfectly they seemed to be growing right from the glistening red mane. Her lips were stretched wide in an almost childlike smile, and seemed to be used to that position. But her eyes. They were the best part. Alive they were, large and round and sparkling. Flecks of every shade of green possible seemed to move and change, dancing under his gaze. He drew a sharp breath.

"Heh . . .hello," he stammered finally.

The woman giggled, "I didn't mean to startle you," she laughed. Her voice was light, young sounding, almost like a child. He loved the sound of it.

Then Wyatt did something he hadn't done for as long as he could remember. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

Again the woman laughed. "No, I never drink," and, not for the first time that night, Wyatt found himself feeling incredibly foolish.

She swayed slightly to the music, then flicked a green scarf that looked like silk or gossamer at him. She laughed and twirled, then grabbed his hands. "Dance with me!" She cried, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

"No, I . . . I don't," Wyatt tried to protest, but they were already out on the floor. She pressed herself against him and together they swayed in time to the music. Wyatt felt his skin grow hot, but then something about her banished his nerves. His muscles relaxed, and all the little nerves in his brain somehow went quiet. For a moment he felt light and calm and peaceful. He savored the feel of her pressed against him, the earthy smell of her hair. She drew back her head and looked at him. Her eyes were wide and fascinated as they searched his face, her mouth stretched wide in the same ecstatic grin. She seemed almost euphoric looking up at him.

"Who are you?" Wyatt breathed, unable to take his eyes from her face.

Her grin only seemed to widen. "I am Laurel," she breathed back against his lips.

"Laurel," Wyatt repeated. He decided that was the most beautiful name he had ever heard. He had always liked his mother's name, Piper. It was unusual and classic sounding, but suddenly he didn't even think it was that pretty. Laurel was much better. "Laurel," he breathed again.

"Yes," she whispered delightedly, "and you are the child of a charmed one!"

Reality slammed into Wyatt's chest with the force of a charging bull. He was suddenly jerked off cloud nine and back into the middle of a crowded dance floor, in a club he was supposed to be running. And here, standing before him, was the very thing he had been dreading. Proof. Proof that the evens of a few days ago had not been just a bizarre dream. Proof that he was a witch, and that he had powers he couldn't control, and that at any second an all powerful, resurrecting demon might come up through the floor and try to kill him, Julia, and everyone in the club. It was like a nightmare.

Laurel was still talking. "You are the child of a charmed one," she repeated, "you are the twice blessed child!"

"Now you see," Wyatt jumped in, trying to extricate himself from her embrace, "that's where you're wrong. I'm not twice blessed. Believe me, I'm not even once blessed. So, you've obviously got the wrong guy, so I'll leave you to go look for him, if he's who you're looking for."

"You are the twice blessed child," insisted Laurel, keeping a firm hold on him, "I can sense it! You are the child of a powerful witch and her forbidden angel lover."

"Actually my dad was a handyman," Wyatt told her quickly, "not an angle. And, they were married. So, if you could," he squirmed, trying to pull away, but she held fast.

"You are the twice blessed child!" she insisted, her vibrant eyes looking at him desperately, "I need your help! My forest is in danger!"

"Your forest?" asked Wyatt, "what are you, a wood nymph?"

"Yes!" Laurel cried, "and I need your help!"

"Wyatt!?" called a voice from closer to the stage. Julie stood, hands on her hips, grinning madly. She wore tight black jeans and a sparkling, silvery shirt that was open at the back, with her hair wild and wavy around her face. "Ooh," she giggled over the music, "looks like somebody found a dance partner! I knew you weren't all work and no play!"

"We're not dancing," Wyatt insisted, "she's . . ." he stopped. He simply couldn't bring himself to say it here, in the club. This was where he worked, his place of normality. He couldn't bring himself to talk about magic here.

"One hot chick!" Julie laughed, "I'll say. Don't worry," she told Laurel, "he's not always this shy!"

"Julie!" Wyatt yelled. He could have kicked her. Why, _why_ did she have to be some damn blunt!

"You are the child of a charmed one as well!" shouted Laurel, and to Wyatt's great relief, unwrapped herself from him and bounced over to Julia, wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Uh, Wy?" Julia raised an eyebrow at her cousin. Wyatt let out a groan of frustration and, grabbing Julia by the hand, hurried off the dance floor, the two girls in tow.

Wyatt pulled open the door of the back room and, pushed Julia and Laurel inside, closed the heavy door on the pounding music. "Okay Wy," Julia put her hands on her hips, "what's this all about?"

"Julia," Wyatt sighed tiredly, gesturing at Laurel, "Laurel the wood nymph. Laurel, Julia my ever so sensitive cousin and fellow witch."

"A wood nymph?" asked Julia, grinning, "cool!"

"It is not cool!" Wyatt bellowed, "magical creatures in my club is not cool at all!"

"Are not, honey," replied Julia gently, smiling in the face of his anger, "and did you, in all your grand grammatic wisdom, ask her why she's here?"

"She says she needs help," Wyatt told her, feeling immensely weary.

"And you tried to turn her away!" Julia demanded, shocked. Since the whole thing had begun Wyatt had shown an aversion to magic, but Julia couldn't have imagined him turning away someone who needed help. She had never thought he was the kind of person who could be so . . . heartless. Suddenly Julia saw her cousin in a whole new light. It didn't flatter him.

"Please," begged Laurel her eyes wide, "you must help me! My forest is in terrible danger!"

"Don't you worry honey," Julia cooed, putting an arm around Laurel, "we'll help you."

"Julie!" growled Wyatt dangerously.

"Wyatt." Julia replied defiantly.

"We're not really in a position to help anyone right now." Wyatt hissed.

"But we're going to do the best we can," Julia told him firmly, "Someone needs out help Wyatt. We can't just turn her away!"

Wyatt looked at Julia for a moment. She stood, tall and proud and determined, facing him. Who was this chivalrous young woman? Not his cousin. Not the girl that had cheated off him at school. Not the girl who had run amok of the house as a child. Not the girl that had teased him unmercifully for being a goody two shoes! What had happened to Julia? And how . . . how could he have missed it?

"Okay," Wyatt agreed, "we'll see what we can do."


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: By popular demand, my own need for an information source, and the fact that I think this should get some reviews, I have a surprise. Enjoy, and remember REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!

_Ding-Dong!_

Desiree cringed at the piercing sound of the doorbell, audible even from up in the attic. She took a moment to rub her throbbing head, then unfolded her stiff legs out from under her on the couch and stood, stretching. The stairway to the attic was still unfamiliar to her, so she took off her high heels before descending the steep steps, and still stumbled and banged her knee against the wall twice. Wincing, she hurried down the second floor hallway towards the second staircase.

"Coming!" she called as she heard the doorbell ring again. Idly she wondered who could be calling at this late hour. Normally she would have been at the club, but instead had decided to go on looking through the book of shadows for an answer to her situation with Danielle. She had put it away after a while, looking at the pictures printed in horrible detail on the yellowing pages sent shivers racing down her spine, especially being alone in the house as she was.

She paused for a minute on the landing. What if whoever was at the door was actually a what? A demon coming to kill her while she was alone without her cousins? What would she be able to do if a Grimlock, or worse, a Wendigo, came through the door?

The doorbell sounding again snapped her out of her musings. She shook her head, frowning, as she headed for the front door. What was she thinking? She was being stupid, and paranoid. The letter her mother had written her had said that all the demons were gone. True, there had been Alec, but she had no reason to think that there would be an attack every time the doorbell rang. Besides, why would a demon ring the doorbell?

Desiree shook the wrinkles from her skirt, smoothed her hair and, with a bright smile on her face, pulled open the front door.

"Hi," she twinkled brightly to the young man standing outside. He was handsome, about Julia's age, and tall with dark hair and smooth skin. He was wearing light colored jeans and a blue T-shirt, and Desiree noticed a gold chain around his neck, though the pendant was hidden under his shirt. His eyes were warm, knowing and intelligent, and somehow . . . oddly familiar. They flicked quickly over Desiree, as though taking in every inch of her in a split second.

"Hey," he replied, in a voice that was cool and confident.

"Do I know you?" Desiree asked, without meaning to, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me, it's just that you look so familiar."

He smiled, seeming pleased with her response. "It's fine," he told her, "in fact I was kinda hoping you'd say that. Yeah, you do know me, but you probably don't remember me. My name's Chris."

"You're right," Desiree told him, thinking hard, "I don't remember you. Where . . ."

"Why don't we go inside and sit down," Chris interrupted, "I think we have a lot to talk about."

"Some other time," came a voice from behind Chris. Wyatt came charging up the walk, looking tired and bad tempered. Behind him were Julia and a green clad girl Desiree had never seen before.

"Family meeting Des," Wyatt called as he brushed past her, the two girls on his heels, "Now!"

"Do you suppose we could take a rain check on the reunion?" Desiree asked apologetically, turning to Chris, "This is kind of a . . ."

"Family emergency?" Chris asked. For some reason, he seemed almost to be smiling even wider. "Sure, I'll be back."

Desiree closed the door behind Chris's retreating back and, making sure to lock it carefully, followed her cousins into the living room. "Ok, what's the big idea?" Desiree demanded, "What is so important that I have to turn guests away?"

"Who was that guy anyway?" Wyatt asked off-handedly as Julia settled the woman in the flirty green dress in an armchair by the fireplace. Wyatt grabbed a lighter on the mantle, re-ignited the embers in the grate and began to stoke the fire. It was Wyatt's favorite way of heating the house, and he kept the grate clean and the tools handy.

"I don't know," Desiree replied truthfully, "he said we knew each other, but I probably wouldn't remember him. Did he seem familiar to either of you?"

Wyatt shook his head, still concentrating on the fire, as Julia arranged herself on the couch. "He did look . . ." Julia trailed off, frowning. "Never mind. No I don't think I've ever seen him before. This," she gestured to the woman in green, "is Laurel. Laurel is a wood nymph Wyatt met at the club."

Julia looked seriously at Desiree, "She needs our help."

Desiree paused, mixed emotions swirling through her. She still wasn't sure how she felt about being a witch. Finding out her mom hadn't always been a part of the Halliwell family had come as a huge shock, but her real question was why? Why hadn't she grown up in the manor? And why had she finally been reunited with her family after all that time? Desiree had been thinking about it a lot, and no matter how much she didn't want to consider it, she had to think that maybe, just maybe, there had been something wrong with her mother. Maybe she was different, in some way . . . darker.

Desiree shook her head. There was nothing she could do about her mother now, no way she could change her heritage. She just had to focus on doing as much good as possible.

"What's the problem?" she asked, coming to sit on the couch beside Laurel, and placing an arm around the wood nymph.

"Some kind of demon has made itself all comfy cozy in her forest," Julia told her cousin, stroking Laurel's hair comfortingly, "and all that darkness has been killing all the plants to make itself at home."

"Demon's hate grown things," Laurel told them sorrowfully, "The magic we use to make things grow is delicate and pure, and the demonic power is disrupting it. I think it's only a matter of time before it starts coming after me and my sisters directly."

"Don't worry," Desiree cooed, "we'll help you. We'll find out what kind of demon it is and the book of shadows has spells and potions to get rid of all kinds of bad magic."

Wyatt eyed Desiree warily. He thought for sure she would be an ally in trying to keep out of this crazy world, and yet there she was, crooning and making impossible promises just like Julia. When had his whole family gone nuts? Wyatt turned back to the fire, even though it was already blazing. Someone had to be practical, he thought. Someone had to think about it from a sane point of view. But . . . he took another quick glance at Laurel. She looked so scared and so lost. Shouldn't he want to help her? He did, he supposed, but he also had to think about himself and his own family. Did that make him selfish?

"Have you ever seen it?" Julia asked Laurel gently.

Laurel shook her head. "No," she sniffed, "but it's power feels like no other demon we've ever encountered. It feels . . . new. Most demon magic is ancient, but this seems like it was just created."

"Created?" Julia repeated, perplexed, "Created from what?"

Laurel paused for a moment. "Pieces," she said at last.

"Pieces of what?" Desiree asked uneasily.

"Pieces of darkness," Laurel explained, "shadows, fear, hate, the darker bits of human souls, even residual darkness from other demons."

"Great," Julia snorted, "the Mr. Potato Head Demon!"

Desiree giggled, and Wyatt straitened up. "We'll check the book of shadows," he told Laurel, "then we'll come to your forest tomorrow to see what we can do."

"We'll get rid of it," Julia took Laurel's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "We promise."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: I swear to god this is the last chapter I'm writing if someone doesn't review. I'm serious. I even put Chris in. I wasn't gonna do that. But everyone loves Chris. So I put him in anyway! I need something in return here people! Or I won't write the ending. It's a good ending. It has Cole in it. And everyone loves him too. And if you don't like Cole, well then I don't care about you because he was a great character. But even if you don't like him, PLEASE REVIEW!!

Julia was floating. It was dark where she was, that was pretty much all she knew. The darkness wasn't creepy or suffocating, in fact it was kind of peaceful. The place where she was, wherever she was, wasn't cold or hot, and smelled of nothing. It seemed just infinite. Infinite darkness.

Suddenly there was more than darkness. There was light. It appeared suddenly, a tiny point of it, like someone had pricked a hole in the darkness with a needle. The needle pricked again. Another point of light. It took several of these before Julia slowly began to realize they were stars. She was floating in space. She turned over. There was earth below her, seas of blue and patches of green and white puffy clouds.

The red dots were very small, or at least they looked small from up there. They were only in North America, clustered around a spot on the west coast. They were demons, and they were all in San Francisco. Julia knew they were all gathering around her family. They all wanted to wipe out the only thing that stood in the way of their return.

As if her noticing the concentration of demons had triggered it, suddenly her view was much closer. She didn't think she'd moved, but suddenly she was surveying the city, laid out like a map before her. As she watched some of the glowing dots moved, or disappeared and reappeared somewhere else. They were in the business district, moving along the streets, some in golden gate park some in the city. Julia scanned the city. There was the address of Wyatt's club, the area thankfully devoid of red dots. There was the little line of Prescott Street. There was the address of the manor. Julia's heart stopped. A little red dot shone with the same gentle glow. From inside the manor.

Julia screamed out loud as she woke, thrashing at her covers and struggling to sit up, hear pounding.

"What!" Wyatt yelled, stumbling bleary-eyed into the hallway outside Julia's open bedroom door, "What is it!"

"Julia, what's wrong?" Desiree yawned.

"D. . . de . . . demon!" Julia sobbed, gasping for breath.

"Where?" Wyatt demanded, "where?"

"In the house!" Julia fought to calm her racing heart. She clambered out of bed and pushed past her cousins into the hallway. "We've got to find it!"

"Are you sure you weren't just dreaming?" Desiree asked tentatively.

"NO!" Julia screamed, "It was _here_!"

The three of them searched the house from top to bottom. After a quick check in the attic to make sure the book was still safe they scoured the house, combing through clutter, peeking under and behind furniture. Wyatt got a flashlight and went to check the garden while Desiree examined the basement, but in ten minutes they were all in the attic, having found nothing.

"I'm telling you it was here!" Julia insisted, pacing. "It was in the house I swear! I saw it!"

"What did it look it like?" Wyatt asked skeptically, leaning on the table.

Julia paused. "Well . . . well I didn't actually _see_ it see it. I just saw that it was here."

Wyatt gave Julia a look. "Really?" he asked in mocking disbelief, "and just how did you see that it was here without actually seeing it?"

"I saw a map," Julia began.

"A map?" Wyatt repeated.

"Yes, a map." Julia told him, trying to stay calm, "It had demons marked on it and one of the demons was in the house."

Wyatt gave her another look. "I'm not making this up!" she screamed, "I wasn't dreaming and I'm not crazy!"

"It sounds pretty crazy," Wyatt told her flatly.

"So does being a witch," Julia replied coldly, "but you still bought that one."

"OK look!" Desiree yelled, forcing her way into the middle of the fight. "It's late. We're all tired. If there was a demon here when you woke up it's obviously gone now. You probably scared it off when you screamed for help. Let's just all go back to bed and get some sleep, OK?"

Wyatt nodded, and after a moment's hesitation Julia nodded too. Desiree led Wyatt out of the room, but Julia hung back. She stood over the book of shadows, looking down at it. It was so old, had been handled by so many of their ancestors . . . Julia stretched out a hand to touch it, but pulled back as suddenly the book's cover jumped open. She watching in fascination as the pages turned quickly as if blown by a high wind. When they finally stopped Julia stared down at the picture of the banshee. She reached out a hand again to touch it, but suddenly one more page shifted and turned. Julia examined for the first time a picture of a demon, with a red face adorned with black curling tribal markings and cold, deep, black eyes. Then Julia shifted her gaze left. And these eyes she recognized. These were the same warm and sparkling blue eyes Julia had spent hours looking into over the years. Julia had to stare at the page heading for a full minute before the it finally registered. With a black sharpie some had drawn and arrow pointing to the demon's page from the words _Cole Turner: Human Form_.

Author's Note: How do you like that one?


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Thank you Silvore for restoring my faith in the power and indeed the worth of this story. Thanks to you and you alone I will continue writing it, and since you were the only one who had the decency to review I will answer your questions. Reread chapter one, this is the second time I've had to edit it for stuff I didn't really think through. The first time I hinted that Wyatt didn't know Victor wasn't Desiree's grandfather. Don't look for that it's not there anymore. And he didn't know, by the way. As for the fates of the charmed ones' husbands . . . they're all dead. The last demon on earth, which I will tell you about soon enough, died magnificently. Could only be killed with a big explosion. Took a huge chunk out of golden gate park. Or maybe some other secluded area. I haven't decided yet. As for their powers, didn't you watch the season where Chris came back? Everyone can do _everything_. It's very useful, don't have to plan things around a certain family member if you need someone frozen. Anyone can do it. Any witch's power you ever saw on Charmed, whenever they need it someone will use it out of sheer necessity and the others won't be far behind. I think Wyatt's gonna do his forcefield trick soon. Maybe not. I haven't decided. Sorry for the delay, school just started, and I wasn't actually planning to write any more chapters since as far as I could see no one was reading them.

Desiree was picking things out of her hair. As she walked leaves, twigs, small flowers and anything else that fell out of a tree kept falling in her long hair and _sticking_ there. Not just staying. _Sticking_.

"How much farther to the place where you first saw the demon?" Desiree asked as she tossed a large twig aside.

"Not much farther," came the answer, but Desiree was surprised to hear it come not from Laurel but from Julia. The dark haired Halliwell was up in front beside their wood nymph guide, but didn't seem to be told where to go. Rather than looking at Laurel she studied the ground and the trees. She seemed troubled.

"How do you know?" Wyatt demanded waspishly. He yawned, Julia's nightmares were keeping the whole house up, but she didn't seem tired at all.

"Look at the trees," Julia answered simply. Wyatt, grumbling irritably, examined the branches handing over their path. At first glance they seemed normal, but as he looked closer they seemed different somehow. The branches sagged, as though baring a load too heavy for them. Though it was late spring some of the leaves were brown and dead, and no flower buds had opened. Here and there along the ground a root seemed to simply have died in the soil, and every few feet Wyatt could see scorch marks.

Wyatt glanced over at Julia. She seemed to surprise him more and in new ways with each passing minute. One moment she was the same immature Julia, the next she was compassionate and kind, the next perceptive and intuitive. He wondered vaguely if it was the magic doing to her, or if maybe, just under the surface, she had always been this way.

"This demon's really done a number on your forest." Desiree commented sympathetically, surveying the damage.

"Just the evil aura of it's presence was able to do this," Laurel mumbled. She touched each twig and bud tenderly, like limbs of dead children. "The delicate magic of the flowers and trees could not withstand the darkness. Even I find it difficult to bear."

Just as she said this Laurel swayed, then stumbled. Wyatt lurched forward, but before he could reach the teetering wood nymph Julia twisted around and caught her deftly by the arm.

"You alright?" Julia asked concernedly, setting Laurel back on her feet.

Laurel nodded. "We are getting closer to the demon."

"We can go on from here on our own," Desiree assured her, "I think we can find the way."

"So Julia, find anything in the book about your dreams?" Wyatt asked, a bit sourly, as they continued through the woods, following the trailed of destroyed foliage.

It was all Julia could do to keep from stopping in her tracks. Julia still hadn't decided what to tell Wyatt and Desiree about what she had found. What would Wyatt do, knowing she was half demon?What would he do if he though she was a threat, that the things in her dreams might come true. What would Julia do if he was right? She had been trying with all her will not to mention or think about it, and now was she was sure she jolted so hard Wyatt had to have seen. Her heart pounded painfully against her rib cage, making her chest ache. She tried to take a deep, quiet breath. "No, I didn't find anything relevant," she told him, trying to keep her voice as even possible. That much at least was true enough.

"You sure?" Wyatt asked, stifling another yawn, "nothing at all."

"No," Julia shook her head, telling her self the accusatory note in Wyatt's voice was just her imagination.

"Did you look through the whole thing?" Wyatt tried hopefully.

Julia whirled around. "I said I didn't find anything!" she shrieked, "can't you trust me for five minutes! There's nothing, _nothing_ in there about my dad!"

_ROAR!_ From somewhere behind Julia there came a tremendous bellow. They turned toward the noise but as their eyes searched the trees no demon appeared.

"Where is it!?" Desiree shrieked, whirling around and around, trying to find the source of the roar.

"I don't see it!" Wyatt called back, eyes flicking frantically from tree to tree.

"I do," Julia whispered. Her cousins turned to her and watched, horrified, as she raised a shaky finger and pointed towards the ground. The shadows were lengthening. Not as though the sun were setting, but stretching grotesquely, bending and twisting until they broke away from the objects that cast them.

"What's . . . what's happening . . ." Desiree whispered tentatively, then gasped. All over the wood small puddles of detached shadows writhed, slithered . . . and began to move. They inched and crawled as the three of them watched, slithering like tiny snakes toward the place where they had heard the monstrous sound.

"Stop them!" Julia screamed, looking frantically around.

"And how to you propose we do that!?" Wyatt snarled, eyes jumping from shadow to shadow.

"Eeeewww!" Desiree screamed as one slithered over her shoe, "what are they!? What are they doing!?"

"I don't know, but I don't wanna find out!" Julia slammed her foot down on one slithering shadow, but it simply separated around her sneaker. As they watched the shadows began to pool, writhing and melting into one another in a great dark mass. The three of them watched, horror struck, as the great pit of shadowy goo shifted, bubbled . . . and began to rise.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Thank you ariex for your review! Nothing is better than knowing my work reaches someone. Anyone. Plus, I have a new policy. I don't start writing the new chapter until someone reviews. I started writing this literally the moment you submitted your review. Thank you!

Julia wondered just how well the 'hit it till it breaks' method would work on a shadow. It had, after all, constructed itself from thousands of tiny pieces. Even if they did succeed in somehow breaking it into bits, would it just reform from the shadowy pieces of itself? She supposed they would cross that bridge when they came to it. Right now they were all a little preoccupied with not getting killed.

"Look out!" Julia shrieked as it charged Desiree. Wyatt waved his hand violently at the monster, but it only seemed to flinch and shrug off the attack

The shadow thing, whatever it was, looked solid enough. It had become a grotesque beast, with tough lizard skin and a bumpy head full of sharp teeth. It was at least a good foot taller than Wyatt, and wider than a doorway, with huge claws and hulking muscles under its tough hide.

"What is it!?" Desiree screamed as it swiveled its head to fix each of them in turn with its wild black eyes, snorting steam like a bull.

"It looks like a dinosaur!" Wyatt yelled, never taking his eyes off it.

"I think demon is slightly more likely!" Julia retorted sarcastically.

The demon bellowed angrily and whirled around to face Wyatt. With another defending roar it charged, head lowered like a battering ram.

"Wyatt!" Julia screamed, but she was to far away, and she and Desiree watched helplessly as it rocketed at Wyatt. Eyes full of terror he backed into a tree, and with the beast almost upon him he threw up his hands to shield his face. . . and the beast bounced off him. Or rather, it bounced of the glowing blue bubble that had appeared around him.

Julia and Desiree stared at him, but he seemed even more surprised than anyone as the neon forcefield shimmered and rippled around him like a soap bubble. The beast snorted, looking around in confusion, trying to figure out what had repelled it. It leveled its head at Wyatt again.

"Oh no you don't!" Julia screamed just as the beast took off towards her cousin. On pure instinct, Julia raised both hands and flicked them angrily at the monster, and just like that it puffed and dissolved into shadows.

"What was that?" Wyatt asked, staring at Julia.

"What was _that_?" Julia replied.

"Can we go home?" Desiree asked tiredly.

--A few hours later--

"Forcefield." Julia told them matter-of-fact-ly.

"A book of ancient sorcery says forcefield?" Wyatt retorted skeptically. He was on the sofa, Desiree curled up next to him. Julia walked from the bottom of the staircase into the living room, holding the book of shadows open in her hands.

"Your mom says forcefield," Julia replied coolly.

"Oh, that's really mature," Wyatt shot back, glaring at her.

"No, seriously," Julia came around the back of the couch and showed him the page.

"It says deflection," Wyatt observed, examining a picture of a blue circle hovering beside a hand.

"And that says forcefield," Julia pointed to the bottom of the page, where in a small footnote was Piper's handwriting.

**Wyatt seems able to project full forcefield around himself and others nearby**

"Does it matter?" Desiree interjected before they could start arguing. "It saved Wyatt from the demon, the demon I might add that we still know nothing about. Julia, could you?"

Julia arranged herself in the nearest armchair, the book in her lap, and began flipping through it carefully. Wyatt rubbed his head wearily and Desiree, sensing the open hostility in the air, got up from the sofa.

"While you're doing that I'll . . ." Desiree's uncertain pause was masked by the sudden _Ding dong_ of the doorbell. "Get the door." She finished enthusiastically. She crossed the room at a brisk walk and opened the door quickly.

"Chris!" she started as she opened the door, half surprised and half wary. "It's really not a good time right now, we're . . . uh . . ."

"Dealing with a demon, I know." Chris finished for her.

For a long moment Desiree stared at him. It took her a moment to register what he'd said, and then she was completely floored. Her brain stalled and she opened her mouth, closed it again, and stared.

Chris, however, smiled. "I'll explain if you let me come in," he told her bluntly, and all Desiree could do was numbly move aside.

"Des!" Wyatt growled through gritted teeth. "We're in the middle of a family emergency here. Sorry Mr . . ."

"Halliwell," Chris finished, "Chris Halliwell. And I think I should be included in the discussion of this so called 'family emergency' since it is my family after all."

Wyatt, like Desiree, simply stared for a bit. He opened his mouth and closed it again, then stammer, "what . . . who . . no but . . . how . . ."

"Do you wanna pick an inquiry," Chris asked, "or should we let Julia start?"

He turned to Julia, who had been watching the scene before her with mild interest. "Apparently nothing really weird has happened yet."

"No, he's always this useless," Julia replied without missing a beat, "So, who are you anyway?"

Chris grinned, "Should have known you'd be the most level headed Jules, Phoebe always was."

"It's a New Yorker thing," Julia retorted coolly, never taking her eyes off Chris, "and you didn't answer my question."

Chris breathed in deeply, "My name is Christopher Halliwell, my mother is Piper Halliwell and my father is Leo Wyatt, which makes me yes, his brother and yes, your cousin."

"Funny," Julia interrupted, "I kinda remember only having two cousins."

"Well Phoebe remembered only having two sisters until Paige came along."

"Why are you only showing up now?" Julia asked, and a moment later Desiree chimed in.

"Wait a minute," she asked, "do you know something about my mom? Something I don't?"

Chris turned to Desiree. "I know a lot of things about you mom that you don't," he told her. "In fact I know a lot of things about all your parent, about this whole family, that you don't know."

"Why?"

It was not Julia, but Wyatt who spoke. He had fixed Chris with a hard stare while no one was looking, and now Julia was struck by the cold glint in his eyes. His face was hard, mistrust etched in every line, and his eyes were like two flecks of steel. He looked . . . frightening, and Julia shivered. She had seen Wyatt give her that look before, but always, always, she had known that it didn't matter. Wyatt was her cousin, he would always be no matter what, and even if they would never be close, he would always be there. Now that look meant something else. It meant real suspicion, real mistrust. It meant he was really wondering about something, someone, and whether they were safe to be around, to let near his family. To let stay alive.

Chris met Wyatt's gaze. "I know you don't trust me. You don't have any reason to. But I'll tell you anything you wanna know. I'm legit, I swear, and I'll do whatever it takes to prove it."

"What's a white lighter?" Desiree asked.

Author's Note: I am having a reader input contest. Whoever can send in a review with a really good idea for the next chapter in it will have their idea used and I will give them credit in the author's note. And if it's really cool I might even put your name in the story description. If I can remember how to change it.

I hope I spelled that right


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: That is a really cool idea but it kinda ties in with my ending. And it could work with him as a ghost, kind of. Actually I might use it. Thank you so much for your review, I put Chris in because, well, everyone loves Chris!

Wyatt couldn't believe he was making tea for his little brother. Forget the fact that it was tea, which no one in their right mind drank anymore, and at that _chamomile _tea for a _headache _no less. He was making this special order for a younger brother he'd found out he had only ten minutes ago. And he'd thought his life couldn't get any weirder.

"I'll try some," Julia called from the living room as Wyatt filled one mug with the watery stuff, and he glared at her through the wall. Julia seemed to have accepted Chris as part of the family with alarming speed and comfort, and Wyatt couldn't help but be uneasy at how quickly she came to trust him.

"It's good for you," Chris informed Julia as Wyatt brought in the two steaming mugs. He handed the two of them their tea, and Chris sipped his gratefully.

"You know aunt Phoebe used to love tea," Chris told her as she blew on her cup. "Here," he leaned over and touched his hand to the side of her mug. Almost instantly the steam stopped rising off the surface. "Now its just right," he finished, grinning.

"It's good," Julia remarked after a sip, "thanks."

"It's great for a morning pick-me-up," Chris replied.

"Excuse me," Wyatt interjected sharply, losing patience, "but are we going to sit around discussing tea all day, or are you going to explain yourself?"

"I'm not a demon Wyatt." Chris said bluntly. For a moment they all stared at him while he sipped his tea. Then he looked up at Wyatt. "I know your first instinct is to treat every new thing like its a threat, but I'm not one. I'm a whitelighter like you. And a witch."

Chris, without even setting down his mug or breaking eye contact with Wyatt, disappeared in a flurry of white lights. Desiree gasped and Julia started, but almost as soon as he had gone Chris was sitting back on the sofa.

"I saw you do that Wyatt," Julia breathed, "and Desiree. Can I do it?"

Chris shook his head. "No Jules, you're one of the few people in this family these days that isn't part whitelighter."

"What is a whitelighter anyway?" Desiree asked, edging closer as Wyatt sank into an armchair.

"It's like a guardian angel," Chris explained, "they watch over witches and future whitelighters; guide them, point them in the right direction, that kind of thing. They usually start out by hiding from their charges, posing as just ordinary people. My dad, Leo, used to pretend to be a handyman."

"You mean my dad," muttered Wyatt.

"Our dad," Chris conceded.

"So how can we be witches and whitelighters?" Desiree asked before the brothers could start arguing. Brothers, she thought. What a weird thing to consider. There had never been brothers in the family before, looking back at the Halliwell family tree it seemed that Wyatt was the first boy ever to be born into the family. And now there was another one.

"That's where things get complicated," Chris frowned, as though wondering where to begin, "You see, whitelighters don't always hide from their charges, in fact most eventually tell the witches they guide about their presence. Being involved with magic there are only so many people you can really talk to and connect well with, and one of those people is a whitelighter. They have a tendency, especially in this family, to fall in love with their charges."

"Oh," Desiree pondered this for a moment, "so Wyatt and I had like, one human parent and one whitelighter parent, we're half and half."

"Well, Wyatt is," Chris told her, "your mom, though, was the product of an affair between a witch and a whitelighter. Gramma Patty and her whitelighter Sam to be exact. Paige married Richard, who was another witch. So you're three-fourths witch and one-fourth whitelighter."

"This is gonna give me a headache," Desiree sighed, "I just know it."

"Have some tea," Chris suggested.

"You say uncle Richard was a witch," Julia told him, "don't you mean, I don't know, warlock or something?"

"Oh, no!" Chris corrected her hurriedly, "the terms witch and warlock differentiate not between male and female, but good and evil. A good witch, male or female, is a witch, and an evil witch is called a warlock. Common mistake.

"Leo was whitelighter to the sisters, as the Charmed Ones, our mothers, were often called. He fell in love with mom, which was at the time strictly against the rules, though that's changed now. They defied the elders to be together, and eventually the elders allowed the marriage."

"Really?!" asked Desiree, starry eyed.

Chris chuckled, "Well it was pretty much that or loose a very powerful witch. I'm told mom threatened to quit."

"Who are the elders?" Wyatt asked. This wasn't what he wanted to ask, a question to which he knew he would have to find his own answer. He had noticed, though he suspected the others hadn't, that while Chris always called Wyatt's mother, Piper, mom, he always called Leo by his name, rather than calling him dad. Wyatt wondered what on earth this could mean, and whether it had anything to do where Chris had come from or why he was here.

"The elders are like the grand high council of everything." Chris was explaining. "They look after everything that goes on that has to do with humans, witches and any other magical creatures. They assign whitelighters to witches and future whitelighters. They're also responsible for enforcing the rules, which is why they were always widely unpopular with our family."Chris chuckled, "We're known for being rule breakers."

"So what about Julia?" Desiree asked, "is she part whitelighters or anything else."

Julia choked. Chris seemed to know everything there was to know about her family. He knew about their mothers. He knew that her cousins were half whitelighter. He knew things even they didn't know. Surely, _surely,_ he would know that her father had been a demon.

"No," Chris replied, sipping his tea, "Cole was human, just like Grampa Victor. Julia's a plain old witch, just like the Charmed Ones."

For a long moment Julia stared at him. Desiree asked him some question or other about her father as Wyatt continued to scrutinize Chris in his distrustful way, but Julia couldn't seem to hear. Her mind was racing. Why had Chris lied and told them her father had been human? Could it be that Chris didn't know about her dad? What other reason did he have to keep her secret? Did he know something she didn't? Julia's head swam. She wanted a moment to talk to Chris alone. He was the first real source of information they'd had since Prue, and Julia needed answers now.

"Okay, here's a question that nobody seems to have thought of yet," Desiree began, frowning. "Where have you been all our lives?"

"Same place Paige was all Prue's life," Chris told her, "well, not exactly the same, but a similar idea. You see, when Sam and Patty had Paige they were afraid of what the elders would do to her if they knew she was half whitelighter. So, they gave her up for adoption, and the Phoebe and Piper tracked her down after Prue's death. With me it was somewhat similar. You three are the oldest child of each Charmed One, the new triquetra. I'm the only other living Halliwell, the fourth, kind of like Paige was."

"But why were you taken away?" Julia asked, "with three part whitelighter kids already your birth wasn't against the rules."

"When the Charmed Ones died the elders resurrected Grams, who by the way had been dead, to take care of you, and your powers were bound, just like the Charmed Ones' were, so you could grow up normal." Here Chris stopped, as though unsure how to go one. He stared for a long moment at Wyatt. "They knew," he continued slowly, "that I did, or would do, I don't know really, something . . . something to help our family. I was different, somehow. I'm not as powerful as you, I won't deny that. That's why the elders wanted me to know everything there was to know about magic. I grew up in a place called magic school. I spent my life learning everything I could, so that I could be of some use to you. I don't know whats coming any better than the elders do. But I want to, I will, be here to help in any way I can. I'm part of this coven too you know. I know it doesn't seem like it yet, but I am part of this family."


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: Thank you ariex, BornToBeAWitch1989, and Tina for your reviews!!! In response to your questions ariex, yes, the events of season six did occur, in fact thats the whole reason Chris was taken away to magic school. To be explained in detail later.

Cooking had never been Desiree's strong suit,so she wasn't exactly sure why she had been picked to make the potion. Not that any of them were sure the potion would work, after all even Chris had his doubts. "It was definitely a manticore," Chris was saying from where he was sitting at the island behind her, "but I've never heard of them forming from bits of shadow. It must be part of this new demon age I've been hearing so much about."

"New demon _age?" _Desiree asked warily, "what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I really don't know," Chris told her, "I was raised at Magic School, a school for witches and other magic users, and I spent a lot of time studying demons. But demons have changes since the books I learned from were written. The Halliwell coven got too strong for them, and now they've somehow changed. It's supposed to have to do with some ancient demon that went into hiding when the Charmed One's came into their powers. He's taking the essences of demons and somehow reshaping them. Making them into some kind of new bread of demons. They're the same as they were before in a lot of ways, but different too, like . . ."

"Shadows," Desiree finished when Chris trailed off.

Chris grinned, "Exactly. You know Paige was clever too. Always thinking outside the box."

"Really?" Desiree asked.

"Yeah," Chris told her, still smiling, "I used to hear tons of stories about her and the others. She once was able to take the ring of inspiration back from a warlock by drawing him."

Desiree paused. Hearing Chris talk about her mom felt strange. She felt like something inside her somehow shifted, like once space was being filled, while at the same time another was opening. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to Chris about it, to ask another question about her mom, but no words came out.

It didn't matter though. Chris seemed to sense the reason for her silence. "It hurts me too you know," he told her softly after a moment. Desiree turned to face him, and was struck by the haunted look in his eyes."I never knew my mom either."

Desiree watched him for a moment. She had barely known him for an hour, but he was her cousin. He _was_ her cousin, she knew that. She felt it.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked quietly. Chris stood and came around the island to carefully examine the mixture in the pot on the stove.

"Looks right," he told her, "I think its ready."

--Later--

Julia was sitting on the roof above the attic window, arms around her legs and chin resting on her knees. She had come out here to think, but she wound up just looking out over the rooftops of all the houses in the neighborhood. Her mind was oddly blank. She knew she had a tremendous amount to consider, but somehow up here it seemed slight less than real. It was slowly getting dark, the setting sun staining the sky a deep, rich purple, and here and there a star winked at her. That night Wyatt intended them to go back to the forest to vanquish the manticore. She should have been scared, or at least excited, but she felt strangely numb. Maybe that was why she didn't really react when a flurry of white lights cascaded down beside her, leaving Chris in their wake. He wasn't looking at Julia, but out over the houses, like she was. He reclined, propped lazily on his elbows, with his legs stretched out in front of him. The sight breeze snatched at his scruffy dark hair, which stuck out over his forehead.

"I should say something insightful, I suppose," he said, after a moment.

"Why?" Julia ask. He hadn't turned to look at her, and she didn't turn to him.

"It's what a whitelighter's supposed to do," Chris sighed heavily, "be insightful."

"Cousins don't have to be insightful," Julia told him.

Chris let out a laugh. "No," he replied, "I guess they don't."

"Why didn't you tell Wyatt my dad was a demon?" Julia asked suddenly, turned to look at Chris for the first time.

Chris waited a moment before facing her. "Did you want me to?" he asked.

Julia looked at him for a moment. "No," she answered finally.

They looked out over the neighborhood again, for a few long moments. The sun sank in the sky, and a few more stars came out.

"It's none of his business," Chris told her.

"Is it his business if I'm a demon?" Julia asked him, not looking at him this time.

"You're not a demon." Chris told her flatly. "You are Phoebe Halliwell's daughter. You are a strong woman, and a good witch. You're Wyatt's cousin."

"I used to torture him," Julia confessed. "I still do, sometimes."

"Phoebe used to torture Prue," Chris snorted. "You think that makes you a demon? It makes you his sister, or something close."

Chris was quiet for another moment. "Your dad was only a half demon," he said, "and you're only a quarter. It's not enough to matter, and it certainly doesn't matter to anyone in this family."

"Thanks." Julia said quietly.

"You're welcome." Chris replied.

Author's Note: This is one of the shortest chapter's I've ever written. It is partially in protest to them changing the format of the sight. And partially because I need to control something right now. I need to accomplish something. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can put it in a review.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: Thank you ariex and du1387 for your reviews. I believe I already updated chapter 1 actually, for the benefit of first time readers. As I think I made clear in chapter 1, the story of the Charmed Ones played out a little differently in this story than in the show. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure the whole Cole becoming the source of all evil thing never happened. He never lost his powers, I'm sure of that though. Chris came back now because they just came into their powers of course, and as I keep saying be patient about Chris's back-story. It's coming, but it has to come out in its own time. The family's past is kind of a touchy subject, in case you didn't notice.

The forest looked considerably different in the dark. The path that had been sunny and inviting was now sinister and perilous. The canopy of tree branches that had cast cool shade on them earlier now hid unnameable dangers behind its swaying leaves. The forest sounds, so soothing during the day, now made the four of them jump slightly, wondering what creature lurked in the shadows, rustling or chirping.

"Man this is creepy," Desiree rubbed her arms to smooth the goosebumps that crept along her skin. It was far chillier at night, and she hadn't thought to bring a coat. She might have been able to deal with the cold, had she not been glancing around at every small noise, wondering if they had come upon their prey, or were about to meet some new predator.

"You think this is creepy," Chris told her, seeming totally calm, "try stalking grimlocks in the sewers. Dark, smelly, confined, and no one can hear you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Desiree whimpered, glancing suddenly to her left as a squirrel rustled the leaves of a nearby tree.

"Quiet, you two," Wyatt hissed, glaring. As Julia watched he glanced left and right sharply, a hard gleam in his eye. Julia shivered, but not from the cold. Stalking their prey, a new change came over Wyatt. He seemed stronger, but also harder. He was cold, determined. Almost mean.

A twig snapped some way forward and they jumped. Desiree stopped dead, eyes fixed on the trees twenty feet in front of the them. The wind was still but the leaves rustled, and Desiree tensed. Her vision sharpened, honing in on the trees, every muscle in her body went taut, and her ears picked up the smallest noise. The trees rustled, shook, and parted.

"Ah!" cried Laurel as Wyatt drew back his hand to toss the vial of potion at the emerging wood nymph. Chris darted forward and seized Wyatt's wrist, forcing his hand back to his side.

"Easy bro," Chris soothed as they all exhaled deeply.

Wyatt jerked his hand out of Chris's grip. "Get off me," he snarled, glaring at his younger brother.

Chris backed up, seemingly unperturbed by his brother's coldness. "Laurel, what are you doing here?" he asked, the picture of calm and control.

"I came to help," she replied, eying Wyatt uneasily. "I thought you might need someone who knew the forest better."

"We appreciate it," Chris told her, smiling warmly, "but we've got it all under control."

CRASH! The trees to Laurel's left suddenly were ripped aside to reveal the massive form of the manticore, teeth bared and eyes blazing. Laurel screamed and ducked behind Julia as the four witches turned to face the massive demon.

"Throw the potion!" Desiree screamed at Wyatt, who drew back his arm and heaved the tiny vial as hard as he could at the demon. It soared through the air and smashed harmlessly against a tree.

"Nice aim!" Julia screamed, as the monster's head swiveled from one to the other, fixing each potential target with its scarlet stare.

"Get behind me," Chris told Laurel, seizing her arm and pulling her back, placing himself between the demon and the wood nymph. Chris held out his hand, palm up, and a ball of swirling white lights appeared, glowing brightly in the dark. Without hesitation, Chris hurtled the swirling mass at the demon, hard and fast, and it struck the manticore in the shoulder. It howled in pain, and fixed its gaze on Chris. It lowered its head, and charged.

"Keep away from him!" Desiree shrieked, flinging her hand at the demon the way she had seen Wyatt and Julia do. The manticore was forced back a few steps and it paused, confused, looking around to see what had struck it.

"Over here!" Wyatt called, seeing the beast eying Desiree. The manticore roared in frustrating and lowered its head at Wyatt, determined to destroy this new target.

Wyatt flung his arm at the monster, but it only paused for a moment before rushing forward once more. Wyatt tried to repel it again and again, but each time it seemed to have less effect on the manticore. Julia watched in horror as it drew nearer and nearer to her cousin. Wyatt's vain attempts to defend himself would not stop the hideous creature, and if it reached him it would kill him for sure. Julia felt her body tense, adrenaline dumping into her veins as every fiber of her being screamed out for her to do something. Out of pure instinct, mirroring Chris's move from a moment earlier, she drew back her hand and felt it grow hot as the projectile appeared in it. Putting her full weight into the throw, she hurled the thing in her hand at the demon. A shimmering mass of blue electricity soared from her palm and struck the manticore head on. It howled in pain and began writhing and contorting, blue sparks crackling over its body. It let out one last mighty, unearthly roar of rage and burst apart into a thousand shadows, which seemed to dissolve into the dark night.

Wyatt took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at Julia. "Thanks," he croaked.

"Don't mention it." Julia told him.

--Later--

Julia lay on her back beside Chris on the roof of the manor, looking out into the night sky. She felt oddly relaxed, considering she'd just killed something.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight," she told him after a while.

"Why not?" Chris asked, turning onto his side to face her.

"I don't know," she replied, turning to face him as well, "I just feel so odd."

"Julia," Chris began, then faltered. He looked at Julia, at his cousin, and paused. She looked so like her mother, strong, brave, yet so young and innocent. She looked questioningly into his eyes, asking him for answers he wasn't sure he had. Or if he did, he wasn't sure he had the heart to tell her.

"Nothing," he finished, turning onto his back again, "Don't worry about it. Everyone feels weird their first time around, its perfectly normal."

Julia smiled gratefully at him and rolled over too. She looked so happy and childlike, staring out at the stars.

"Perfectly normal," Chris repeated, low enough so that Julia couldn't hear him.

Author's Note: Does anyone know if the manor has three or four bedrooms? Not counting Wyatt's closet nursery.


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Thank you CharmedanDangerous83, UnkownP3, bookworm83, lizardmomma (interesting name by the way) and ariex for your reviews! Chris's last line in chapter 19 was talking to himself about Julia. He alone knows, of course, how they won the last battle. Sorry for the wait, but I'm back now. I hate midterms! Merry late Chrismahanakwansayule, and a happy 2009 everyone!

It was four am when Desiree came into the kitchen. It was dark out, but she was wide awake as she pulled cereal from the cabinet and milk from the fridge. She could never remember going to bed as early as she had last night. There was only so long a person could listen to two grown men arguing. Wyatt and Chris seemed to be the type of brothers who moved out of the house at 16 just so they wouldn't have to live with each other. Julia supposed they hadn't gotten it out of their systems as children, after all she couldn't remember growing up, even as a small child with Chris at all. As she poured milk onto her Coco Puffs she wondered idly what it would have been like to have Chris around when she was a child. Having two brothers, after all Grams had raised them to treat each other like siblings, might have been fun. Maybe Wyatt wouldn't have complained about being surrounded by girls all the time. Maybe they wouldn't fight so often if they'd grown up together.

"You're up early," remarked a cool voice from behind her. Desiree turned quickly to see Chris standing at the kitchen door. His hair was tousled and stuck out at odd angles, and his shirt was wrinkled and half buttoned, pulled hastily over boxers.

"So are you," Desiree replied, dipping a spoon into her bowl and taking a bite of cereal without taking her eyes off Chris. She paused, giving Chris an appraising look. "Where do you sleep?"

"Home," Chris yawned simply, making for the fridge.

"Where's that?" Desiree seated herself at the island as Chris pulled a carton of orange juice, some eggs, cheese, and ham cubes from the fridge. He dug a skillet from a cabinet and turned on the stove before answering.

"Magic school," he told her, focusing on cracking eggs into a bowl.

"There's a school for magic?" Desiree asked skeptically.

"There was," Chris gave a small snort. "The students are all gone now. For a long time the place was overrun with demons, and it used to be a base for the forces of good in times of crisis."

"But not anymore?" Desiree prodded.

"No. Our parents killed all the demons there were, or so everyone thought. Not even the elders knew of any other threats, so since there was no need for any more magic they shut down the school."

"Who are the elders?" Desiree asked as Chris flicked water on the skillet to see if it was hot.

"Kind of like the bosses. They're a group of powerful, wise and experienced whitelighters that basically run the good-magic show. They think they know everything and that gives them the right to make decisions for everyone."

"Like taking you away from the family?" Desiree asked quietly.

Chris paused for a minute in the middle of pouring eggs onto the skillet. They hissed and let off puffs of steam, but he didn't seem to notice. "Yeah," he muttered after a moment or two.

"They just," Desiree snapped her fingers, "took you away from your parents?"

"Grams," Chris corrected her, but she had the idea he was avoiding giving a direct answer to her question. "They put her in charge of you guys and dumped . . . placed me in magic school with a whitelighter named Sam. Then they retreated farther up there," Chris gestured at the ceiling.

"Why didn't they put us all in magic school?" Desiree asked, studying the side of Chris's face he showed to her as he prepared his omelet.

"They weren't sure if what I learned there would be necessary," Chris told her, his voice determinedly even and calm. "No need to waist the childhood of all three of us, right? Just the least powerful."

His jaw was set and the muscles in his face flexed as though fighting themselves. He was breathing hard through his nose, and his mouth was a tight, thin line. His eyes were hooded, and Desiree swallowed, thinking of the lump that must have been forming in his throat. She couldn't imagine it, being taken from her home while the others were allowed to stay behind. Thinking that somehow she wasn't good enough to be part of her own family. Desiree shivered as she thought of how Wyatt treated Chris, like an outsider. It wasn't his fault he hadn't grown up in the manor, he hadn't been given a choice. She wanted to reach out and touch his arm, tell him she was sorry, that he would always have a place in the manor and the family, anything to take away some of the pain she saw in his haunted face, but she wasn't sure he would believe her. He had no reason to trust her. He had no reason to trust anything.

--Later--

Wyatt awoke to the sound of an explosion and the smell of burning cardboard and antique furniture. He got out of bed and, after dressing hastily, stalked up to the attic to see whether Chris or Julia was burning down the house. He was growing more annoyed by the day at those two and, more peculiarly, how well they were getting along. Julia had been hanging around Chris all week, "studying magic," and for some reason it drove Wyatt crazy. Julia got under Wyatt's skin constantly, but he still felt protective of her, after all she was his cousin, and he did not trust Chris at all. Something about his new little "brother" did not sit right with him, and he wanted to keep his real family as far away from this magic obsessed maniac as possible.

He opened the attic door to find Julia, coughing violently and waving her hand in front of her face as a cloud of thick pastel purple smoke rose out of a black pot on the table in front of her.

"What are you doing?" he choked through the thick smelling fog as he came to stand across the table from Julia.

"Mixing up a few all-purpose vanquishing potions!" Julia replied delightedly with a twinkle in her eye that reminded Wyatt of why high school had been so miserable.

"Why?" Wyatt moaned, shutting his eyes against this new annoyance.

Julia glared. "Because," she told him seriously, "Chris says we could be attacked at any time."

Wyatt had been wondering when Chris's name would come up. All week he had been filling the girls head with stories about their parents. Battling demons, slaying vampire, rescuing fairy princesses from evil trolls, apparently the "Charmed Ones" had done it all. Wyatt wondered how he was expected to believe the load of fairy tales, which he was to understand their parents had saved as well, but the girls seemed to be hanging on Chris's every word.

"I doubt we'll need all this," Wyatt gestured at the row of vials on the table beside Julia, each filled with a differently colored liquid.

"We never know what kind of demon will attack," Julia told him sternly, "Chris says . . ."

"Chris, Chris, Chris!" Wyatt interrupted her angrily, "will you please stop listening to everything that little twerp says for five minutes!"

Julia looked down into the still smoking pot. "He's just trying to help Wyatt," she whispered, so calm and quiet he almost didn't hear.

"Maybe not," Wyatt replied, leaning in to try and make eye contact with his cousin, "maybe he's . . ."

"He's just trying to help!" Julia snapped at Wyatt, hot tears blurring her vision. Why couldn't he listen to Chris? Why couldn't he see? Why couldn't he understand that Chris made her feel like she wasn't in danger of loosing her place in the family?

Wyatt stared at Julia for a long moment. He wasn't angry, though he had been a moment ago. He wanted to feel tricked, cheated, but instead he just felt empty and off balance, like he had been carrying something and the floor had disappeared, tossing it out of his hands.

"You should get some breakfast," Wyatt told he hoarsely, then turned and left the attic.

Author's Note: Would you believe I wrote that all in one day! I figured I owed it to you guys after not posting for so long, and I wanted to explain where Chris had been. I hope this chapter clears up a few things.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Thank you ariex and lizardmomma for your reviews. When I originally wrote the scene it was Julia talking to Chris, but I figured he needed a scene with Desiree more. That is so sweet about your lizards by the way, I have two Jack Russel Terriers and they can feel like little babies some times! I am surprised there aren't more reviews though. Come on, _nobody_ got that hint in the last chapter?!

One of the things Julia hated about jobs was the interview. She was charming, sure, no boyfriend she'd ever had could say she wasn't, but something about knowing she was here to be judged lit up her angry and rebellious streak. And nothing was worse, of course, than being on a conveyor belt interview. If someone was going to interview for a job, they could at least have the decency to schedule interviews at different times, so she wasn't stuck waiting in an uncomfortable chair outside someones office with five other people waiting for her turn. If there was one thing Julia hated, it was having uniformity thrust on her. She was not one to just go with the crowd.

Still, she supposed, waiting out here wasn't nearly as bad as sticking around at home. That was why she had decided to get a job in the first place. There was only so long she could stay cooped up in the attic pretending not to _feel _hatred radiate of Wyatt at Chris all the way downstairs things between the Halliwell brothers hadn't gotten any better, and after blowing up the attic a third time trying to concentrate on potions and not her bickering cousins, she had decided it was time to get out of the house.

"Julia Halliwell?" called a small, reedy woman who poked her head out of the office door, "Mr. Pence is ready for you."

Julia got up from the small, plastic chair in the small, plastic waiting room and focused her eyes on the small, plastic potted plant as she walked so as not to see the looks of disgust given to her by the several other people waiting for their interviews. She followed the reedy woman's tight gray knot of hair, about as high as her chest, through the door and down a tiny, cramped hallway of indistinct color. At the end of the hall was a door of another nameless color, with the tiniest little desk Julia could imagine outside of a kindergarten classroom tucked into a corner beside it and behind another plastic plant. The woman, whom Julia had dubbed, "Mrs. Reedybun," folded herself like a tiny contortionist into the little office chair, and gestured at the door.

Mr. Pence's office, as Julia discovered, was another dismally dull space. The walls were yet another nondescript shade of nothing and void of any attempt at decoration, even cheap printings of nameless paintings. There were plastic plants in each of the four corners of the room, and two more on the front corners of the large, plain, wooden desk which served as the only furnishing, save the wheeled office chair in which sat Mr. Pence. Mr. Pence was like his office; small, ordinary, and free of any attempt at liveliness. He was a bland man of average height, average build, dull sandy hair color and unremarkable eyes. His suit was clean but neither cheap nor expensive, his hair parted but not styled, his face quite expressionless. Julia fought the urge to run screaming from the incredible deadness of the place, and instead took a breath of the sickeningly stale air and stood, there was no chair, before his desk and waited for him to speak.

"So, Ms. . . ," he consulted a file on his desk and continued in a lifeless drone,"Halliwell. What do you think you can offer to Simon and Lexton Software Manufacturing and Shipping?"

Julia swallowed her instinctual reply of, "A pulse?" and instead began listing her qualifications. "I maintained a 3.5 GPA in high school, I completed several computer science, business and secretary courses and I have job experience from four different company's in New York as a file clerk and a secretary."

"Do you see yourself as becoming a permanent part of the Simon and Lexton Software Manufacturing and Shipping family?"

"Yes." Julia said firmly, despite the voice in the back of her mind that told her even being at home was better than this.

"Do you think Simon and Lexton Software Manufacturing and Shipping could benefit from you talents in the field of records management?"

"I think I could be of great help to you here sir," Julia forced herself to reply.

"Thank you for coming in Ms. Halliwell," droned Mr. Pence. Neither his tone nor his expression had altered in the slightest over the course of the interview, and Julia wondered slightly if he even knew she was there. Still, she knew the look someone who had bee thoroughly unimpressed with an interview.

"Please I need this job!" she blurted.

Mr. Pence's eyes seemed to focus a fraction of a degree more on her. "Why?"

"I can't go home," Julia begged, not even sure of what she was saying. "Please I really need to get a job. If I don't the only thing I'm doing for my family is mediating the feud between my cousin and his brother and I don't know how long he's going to see that as a useful role!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Halliwell," Mr. Pence droned, almost as though taunting her with his indifference, "I can't do anything for you."

"You have to!" Julia growled, her voice raspy and harsh. Her head was spinning, her blood was on fire, her skin tingled with wild electricity. Julia felt all her anger well in her throat and for a moment her eyes burned as though emitting heat.

Mr. Pence stared at her, alarm crossing his face for a split second before his eyes took on an odd, dreamlike quality. Julia stared back at him, unsure of whether this was new, or if he had slipped back into his state of inhuman blandness. "You start tomorrow," he droned, his voice once again monotone.

Julia stared at him for a moment, hardly believing what she was hearing. Had she gotten to him? Had he taken pity on her? Was he just slightly insane? Julia wasn't going to wait around to find out. Muttering a hurried thank you she turned quickly and exited, rushing past Mrs. Reedybun and through the small, plastic waiting room and the lifeless reception area onto the busy street. Getting into her car she sped away from Simon and Lexton Software Manufacturing and Shipping as fast as traffic would allow. Only when she was a couple blocks away did she let herself relax. She had done it, somehow. She had the job, an unnaturally boring job, true, but an excuse to get out of the house and a way to bring something, _anything_, home that was useful. It was a way to seem like a real, viable and worthwhile part of the family.

Julia's cell phone rang, and as she picked it up she allowed herself to exhale, smile, and answer with some brightness in her voice.

"Hey cuz," she half-laughed, "you would not believe what just happened to me."

"Julia?" came a tentative, fearful voice from the other end of the phone.

"Desiree?" Julia recognized her cousin's voice and was instantly put on alert. Something wasn't right.

"I'm at the Fielding house," Desiree breathed fearfully, "the family is dead and there's something here."

"I'm on my way," Julia told her.

--Meanwhile--

Back in the bland, lifeless office of Simon and Lexton Software Manufacturing and Shipping a smile spread over Mr. Pence's face. It was not a cheerful smile. It was not a relaxed smile. It was an evil smile, pulling the corners of his mouth up to his tiny, suddenly cold eyes. He pressed a button on his desk. "Madeline?" he asked, his drone replaced with a voice of cool intelligence, "Send the others away. She behaved exactly as anticipated."

Author's Note: I expect more reviews this time, since I'm so prompt and this chapter is so juicy.


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: Thank you, lizardmomma, for your review. I want to send a special thanks to du1387. You're the only person who reviewed and told me to keep writing. Thank you, that was very kind of you. I'd also like to thank ariex for the awesome idea for working out the Chris and Wyatt case. Read on.

For a few moments the only thing Wyatt was aware of was a throbbing pain in the back of his head. It was dark, the smell of smoke, brimstone and stale air filled his nose and there was complete silence save the gentle sound of flames nearby. Slowly, very slowly he opened his eyes and raised his head. He was in a cavern, some kind of tunnel or cave deep underground. Torches burned in brackets around the rough walls, and he was lying on warm stone. He reached his hand behind his head and gently probed the tender area. It was wet, and when he pulled back his hand he saw blood on his fingers. He must have cracked his head on the stone when he'd . . . what had he done? How had he gotten here? He glanced around, but nothing gave him a clue as to where he was or how he'd gotten there. The only thing he did see made him groan. He was in a mysterious cave underground with no memory of how he'd gotten there, and Captain Magic.

Wyatt and Chris had been in a sibling war since the battle with the manticore. Despite the extra room Chris had not moved into the manor, but he was making his presence known in ways far to strange for Wyatt's taste. Since he had shown up the girls had done next to nothing but magic. Julia had taken over the kitchen, bringing in all sorts of bizarre ingredients for her potions, and Desiree had attacked her quest for a magical solution to the Fielding case with renewed vigor. Chris himself had been hovering over everything like a dark cloud, offering help and suggestions. How quickly he had wormed his way into their lives made Wyatt sick, and he wasn't shy about showing his distaste for his supposed brother. More than once his anger had brought the two of them to a shouting match, but thankfully Desiree had intervened before it had come to blows, and at last both girls had deserted the house, Desiree for an meeting with the Fielding family, Julia in search of a job.

He stood, wincing as a new cacophony of aches and pains erupted all over his body. He was stiff and sore, and the pain in his head only intensified as he got to his feet. Chris was still unconscious, and only when Wyatt poked him with his foot did he stir.

"What . . . where are we?" Chris asked blearily, opening his eyes and wincing.

"You're the weirdness expert," Wyatt retorted sourly, "you tell me."

Chris looked around as he got to his feet. His eyes darted back and forth as he took in the cavern first in disbelief, then surprise, and finally confusion.

"Well?" Wyatt demanded, quickly losing patience. He was tired and sore, and he wanted to get out of here.

"We're . . . in the underworld," Chris answered, still looking around in confusion.

"Great," Wyatt snorted, "I died and went to hell with you."

"Not hell," Chris corrected him, only half listening, "the underworld. Its where the demons used to live. Its supposed to be empty, but then who lit the fires?"

"Good question," Wyatt remarked dryly. "Better question; how did we get down here? And how are we going to get out?"

"Can you orb?" Chris asked, turning his full attention to Wyatt finally.

"What?" Wyatt snapped impatiently.

Chris sighed in exasperation. "The thing where you disappear from one place and reappear in another."

"I've never done it on purpose," Wyatt scoffed, "I don't need to use to magic for every little thing."

"Well magic is the only way in or out of here," Chris forced some patience into his voice, "now just take my hand."

Wyatt took hold of Chris's outstretched hand and at once was overcome with the familiar feeling of dizziness. A moment later he felt the top of his head crack against something hard and suddenly he was flat on his back on the floor again.

"Nice," Wyatt growled as he got to his feet once again.

"I was afraid of this," Chris began with some trepidation, "something is preventing us from orbing out."

"Something like what?" Wyatt demanded, not liking where this was going. If he wasn't mistaken, he'd gotten sucked into one of Chris's madcap magical misadventures.

"Demons," Chris replied and Wyatt groaned. He's known this was bound to happen. Having Chris around was no good and he'd known it, but would the girls listen to him? He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. No one ever listened to him.

"That's just great!" Wyatt kicked at the floor. He turned on Chris, anger pushing him over the line. He had been pushed to his limits and now he had officially reached boiling point.

"I never asked for this you know," he told his brother, facing him head on, then turning to pace the cavern. "I never wanted to be a super hero. I'm not a witch, I'm not an angel, I run a night club for god sakes!"

"Listen," Chris began, "I know . . ."

"What do you know!" Wyatt cut Chris off in a yell. "You were always a freak! I had normal! Why did you have to bring this down on us! Why did you have to come here!"

"Julia found the book of shadows long before I showed up at the manor," Chris shot back defiantly.

"Who cares?" Wyatt asked. All the steam suddenly went out of him, he no longer felt angry, just empty and hopeless. He leaned listlessly against a wall.

"I hate this. I hate magic! I hate this crazy family!" Wyatt stared, defeated, at a corner. "I just wish everything would go back to the way it was."

"Tough!" Wyatt turned slowly, wondering if he had heard correctly. Chris was glaring at him, and from the look in his eyes he was, for the first time since his arrival, truly angry.

"I learned when I was four years old that magic doesn't just go away because you wish it!" Chris spat savagely. "I hated magic, I hated everything to do with magic, but it was my family and it was my responsibility. I didn't have a choice and neither do you."

Chris paused at Wyatt stared at him. It was as though Chris had stepped into whole new light, and he had changed, was now completely different. He was angry, frustrated, looked as fed up as Wyatt felt. He was bitter, resentful, full of hatred and fear. For the first time he seemed . . . human.

"We don't have a choice if we're going to get out of here alive." Chris continued, his tone more even now. "I don't know what could have brought us down here, but its a safe bet it isn't on our side. So, are you with me?"

Wyatt looked at his brother for a long time. It finally dawned on him that he could hate magic all he wanted, but that wouldn't change who and what Chris was. He was the son of Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt. He was a Halliwell, and Wyatt's brother. His younger brother.

"Okay," he replied, "I'm with you."


End file.
